Don't Give Yourself Away
by henriettaline
Summary: "How is it somehow so wrong for me to wait a year for him, but he can give up his whole life for me?" Post-S3. After Finn's "surrender" blindside at the train station devastates Rachel, Finn is convinced to try his luck in New York. But they have a hard road back, for Rachel to trust Finn again and for Finn to build a life that's truly his.
1. Three Visitations

_A/N: Post-"Goodbye", I really feel like telling Finn off for giving up on himself, so I'm getting the other characters to do it for me._  
_Title is from the Cheap Trick song "Surrender".  
_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Glee. Any similarities to anything they might do are probably just because we're playing with the same things.  
_

* * *

Finn watched the train go off in the distance, falling to his knees, overwhelmed by it all. Rachel was gone, and he didn't know when he would see her again, if ever.

Around him his friends made some moves to comfort him, but they mostly decided to leave him alone for now. He couldn't talk to them anyway, for all they knew this was a decision made jointly; they couldn't understand what he was feeling now, how hard it had been to look at the girl he loved more than his life, know that she was willing to give everything up for him, and also know that he couldn't let her.

Rachel was born to be a star, she had dreamed of becoming a star all her life, and now she was on her way. Finn was getting out of her way, headed for the army, his father's dishonorable discharge and his inability to fix it also weighing heavily on him.

_It's for the best, _he told himself one more time, then tore his eyes away from the horizon and got to his feet, mustering some bravado to answer the lingering "so what are you gonna do?" question from Puck with "I'm joining up, dude. Going to show the U.S. Army what the name Hudson really means."

He didn't explain what they'd really seen.

Eventually word got out.

* * *

Three days after he'd put Rachel on the train for New York, Finn got a call from Mr. Schuester, who needed a bit of help moving furniture. _Why not_, he figured, and headed over to his former teacher's apartment in the early evening.

"Hey, Finn, thanks for coming over," Mr. Schue said, letting him in.

"Sure, no problem," Finn said. "So, uh, you said you wanted some help rearranging a few things?"

"Ah, yes," Mr. Schue replied. He motioned to Finn to follow him into his office area. "Starting with this, actually," he said. taking his 2012 Teacher of the Year award down from the wall. "I think I'll just put it in a drawer somewhere."

"Uh..." Finn was puzzled. "Why? Don't you want to look at it?"

"I would if I thought I had earned it," Mr. Schue said, looking down at the plaque in his hands, then turned to Finn. "When you handed this to me, I was so touched by everything you said. But clearly I don't deserve this."

"What? No! I meant every word. And lots more, it's all true."

"Really? Because from where I'm standing, it's so obvious that I failed." Mr. Schue took a deep breath, then exhaled, looking at Finn's confused face. "You said I taught you to dream. And that meant so much to me, it would to any teacher, to be told that I've inspired a student in some way that will last. But it didn't last, did it? One rejection letter and you pulled the plug on the whole thing, your dream, the life you wanted with the woman you love, everything. If that's me teaching you to dream, then I did a really shitty job."

Finn's face fell and his stomach sank. But Mr. Schue had made such a difference, he felt. "What, you're going to have it all come down to me?" Finn asked, scrambling for a way to object. "'Cause it's not all me, everyone in Glee Club built dreams because of you."

"Everyone in Glee Club," Mr. Schue echoed, and Finn nodded. "Ever wondered why you're so special to me, Finn? It's not just because I see myself in you, or that you're like a son, or brother - sort of nephew, I guess. You changed my life, Finn. For the better, so much for the better. And it was right after I kind of screwed over yours, at least the life you had then." He shifted his plaque into one hand, and reached out to touch Finn's arm with the other, to keep his attention. "I needed you for Glee Club, so I planted pot in your locker and blackmailed you into joining. Which I know caused you no end of trouble with your friends, Puck, Quinn, and the football team. But then I was going to leave, give up teaching and walk away from _my_ dream, my _life_. You were off the hook and you knew it. You could have gone right back to your old life and never given any of us a second thought. _But you didn't._ You came back willingly, you talked the others into doing "Don't Stop Believing", and when I heard it I knew I had to stay." He clenched Finn's arm. "I know you've talked about wanting to be a hero like your dad was in the army, before things went bad for him. But you were already my hero, Finn. For that. The life I have now - all of it - I have that because of you. And so does everyone that had their life changed by Glee Club at McKinley, and many more that are yet to come. Because if you hadn't done that, _there would be no club_. That's why Artie dedicated 'In My Life' to you. For that, for your leadership in the club for three years, for how you brought it on stage at Nationals - and you lit up, don't deny it, you were right before when you said what you love to do is perform - you're our hero. And for the man who stopped me from walking away from my life to now walk away from his..." he shook his head. "It just shows me that I couldn't do for you what you did for me." He looked at Finn, his eyes softening. "By how I measure it, that makes me a failure. And with the one student I wanted to help the most."

Finn hung his head, not sure he could say anything. He hadn't thought about any of that when he'd made that awful decision to set Rachel free, or when he'd been worried about what to do with his life. "So..." he eventually offered, lamely. "You don't really need any furniture moved."

"No." Mr. Schue smiled a little as he dropped his hand from Finn's arm. "I just need you to listen. You were so excited when you let your dream in, how you were going to New York, I can't see you just drop it without doing something. Finn... don't give up on yourself, on the hero that you naturally are. You don't need to literally save a life to truly save one. You've already saved mine."

* * *

Finn drove home in silence, not really sure what to make of what Mr. Schue had said to him. He had thought his teacher had helped him to dream, to at least want to make something of himself. But he hadn't found it. Had he given up too soon? On acting, on New York, on Rachel? On himself? But he couldn't let Rachel wait for him, he might never find anything, she had to be free. Even if she didn't know it herself.

Once he came into the house and kicked his shoes off, he heard his mom call him from the living room.

"Finn. Can you come in here please?" It didn't sound much like a question.

Finn went into the living room and looked around at his family, at his mother sitting on the couch, at Burt and Kurt in the chairs. He groaned. "What, another intervention, more people telling me what a mistake I've made?"

"Traditionally there are three," Kurt said. "Consider us... the Ghosts of Finn's Life Present, as Mr. Schue was the Past." Finn shrugged, frowning sullenly.

"Come sit with me, honey," his mom said, patting the seat of the couch next to her. Finn walked quietly over and sat down, not looking at anyone. "So," she continued. "Why don't you tell us about why you've decided to join the army?"

Finn swallowed. "I've explained this," he said. "When I got that letter back from Pace, I had to find something," he said. "It's not like I didn't consider it before. And it had to be something where Rachel couldn't come too, she has to go on with her life."

"But you want to be an actor," Kurt said. "You were so excited about that, more excited than you've been about anything, except marrying Rachel. And sure, it'll take time for you to work on it, anything good always does."

"I need to do something that'll really matter," Finn tried to explain. "Something that can change people's lives."

"What, the Arts don't really matter? Please don't tell my constituents," Burt said.

"I don't mean it like that," Finn said quietly. "I just - I want to honor Dad," he continued, finally looking over at his mother.

"Well I must say you're doing a bang-up job of emulating your father," Carole said seriously, and she started to tear up. "Too bad you started at the wrong end, the part where he ran out on the people he loved." Finn looked away, angry, but she went on, crying in earnest now. "Do you really think he'd want this, Finn? That he'd want you to honor the dead instead of the living? He left us so he wouldn't drag us down with him, but you're determined to go anyway. How much collateral damage does one dead man get to have, that you'd break the heart of the girl you love, that you've promised yourself to, out of some misguided attempt to survive what he couldn't? Your father's biggest failure wasn't the premature end of his military career, it was not being there for us, so try redeeming _that_."

"Nah, it's all right, Carole," Burt put in. "It's not like Finn really loves Rachel, how could he? He's too young to know what love really is."

Finn shot to his feet and glared down at his stepfather. "I'm letting her go because I love her, I'd rather wreck my own life than hers!"

But Burt still looked up at him patronizingly. "You'd rather break her heart than swallow your pride."

"By the way, Rachel's miserable," Kurt put in. "You don't ask, but you should still know. NYADA's wonderful, apparently, full of talented performers, but she needs more, and the more she thinks about what you're about to do, the worse she gets. She hates the dorms, I think they sound fine, it's just not how she wants to live." Kurt looked directly at Finn, an intense stare. "She wanted to live the rest of her life with you. And on the very day that was supposed to start, you shoved her away and gave her the dressed-up more romantic version of 'it's not you it's me, maybe later, if we're lucky'. I was at the station to support her, she certainly needed it and still does, but don't think for a second that this meant I supported that dick move of yours. Especially not now when she's being taunted by dreams about what if she'd simply refused to get out of the car and onto the train, and what could happen to you now instead. Don't want to wreck her life? _Too. Damn. Late._"

"Look, I talked it all over with her dads. We agree this is best."

Carole laughed hollowly. "Her dads. The same men who have been against your engagement from the beginning but lied to you about it. And I seriously thought I'd raised you better than to think a woman can't make her own decisions."

"What?" Finn stumbled back and sat down again, almost without realizing it.

"Oh yes," Carole went on. "The whole get-married-now welcome-to-the-family approach? A total lie, to scare you away. So of course they'd be happy with having Rachel go to New York without you."

_Shit._ Finn had been relying on her fathers' approval to ease his worries about Rachel. Still... "Well maybe they were right to be concerned," he said haltingly. "I can't be what holds her back, if we're really meant to be together then we'll find each other again."

"What holds her back?" Kurt objected. "Was how you got her to calm down and get into performance mode at Nationals, right before her solo, you holding her back? Yes, she told me about that. Before you tore her heart into shreds, when she was still 'this is how wonderful Finn is and why we are perfect together'. Rachel loves you, Finn, more than she ever thought she could love anyone or anything. And she'll listen to you when she won't listen to anyone else, you can make her better, happier, stronger. As for 'meant to be' - for Rachel 'meant to be' has never been about letting things happen. Yes, she's amazingly talented and deserves to be at NYADA, but she's worked her ass off for that, both for how good she is and also to get Carmen Thibideaux to give her a second chance. In Rachel's world, if you really want something you go for it, you don't leave it up to fate. So in Rachel's world -" Kurt shrugged, then glared at Finn. "You clearly don't really want her."

"No..." Finn groaned, protesting. "I've never wanted anything more. But I can't break her to have her, she has to be a star, it's who she is. It killed me to let her go, you know how hard it was for me."

"You made that choice, she didn't, so excuse me if I don't care how hard it was for _you_." Kurt glared at him venomously. "She's _devastated_. She's scared that you're going to die and it'll be all her fault, that you don't really love her, that she's failed at the one thing that mattered more than anything else."

"What? Look, I explained this to her. We didn't have much time, but we understand each other better than _that_. She knows I love her but she has to live her life, be the star she was always meant to be."

"Live her life, huh. What's Rachel's favorite song?" Kurt asked.

Finn blinked at the sudden change in subject. "'Don't Rain on My Parade'," he said, confused about what Kurt was trying. Even after her choking on it in her audition, he knew she still loved it, she always had. "She's loved that song since she was really small." He became more sure of himself. "It's part of her dream, she wants to star in _Funny Girl_."

"That's right," Kurt said, nodding. Then he looked very pointedly at Finn. "What does it mean?"

"Uh..." _Shit. Watched the movie with her loads of times, okay I usually tune out, but -_ Finn's mind scrambled to remember. "There's, um, a train, and people are telling her not to follow her dream, and then she sings that," he managed to get out. He swallowed, on firmer footing. "So it's basically her telling her friends that it's her risk to take."

His mom actually smiled at him a little. "That's not bad."

"Yes, that's more accurate than I thought you'd get," Kurt commented. "But what's the risk, Finn?"

Finn just shrugged, unable to say. Usually he looked at Rachel, she got that cute wrinkle in her nose and shine in her eyes at that point of the movie. "I don't remember," he admitted.

"Fanny wants to leave the show to be with the man she loves, and her friends with the show tell her not to. But she wants to have a _life_, not just a career, so she sings that song to explain that." Kurt raised his eyebrows. "And yes, Rachel's been singing it since she was very young, and that's all part of her dream too. She doesn't just want to sing it, she wants to live it, to take that risk and have it all. 'One roll for the whole shebang.' And being with you helped her understand that song more than ever."

_Oh...** fuck.**_ "But, uh, doesn't it end really badly?"

"The guy she loves is a shyster. Hope you're not."

Finn grimaced. "I'm still not good enough for her," he protested. "And, you know, 'if you love something set it free'..." his voice trailed off, shaking. Had he got this completely wrong?

"'If it comes back, it's yours," Burt completed for him. "Doesn't say anything about if you push it away. It's not like she chose to leave." He cleared his throat. "You want to be with her, but you feel you don't deserve it? Then work for it. Because you never know what's going to happen in the future, and sometimes things just suck, it's not 'fate'. Kurt's mom dying of cancer, was that fate? And what happened to your dad? We have a second chance as a family together, but we've worked for that, and we know better than anyone that anything can happen to the ones you love." He shrugged. "Girl could step off a curb in New York City tomorrow and turn into just another statistic."

Finn was aghast. "What the hell did you say that for?"

"'Cause it's true. There are no guarantees that anyone has any kind of a future. You want to leave things up to fate, Finn? Then don't be surprised if fate decides to screw you over, 'cause it's had lots of practice doing that to just about everybody else. 'The Lord helps those who help themselves,' son. If you want her, work for her. It's harder than running away but it's a hell of a lot more worth it."

Finn just sat there, reeling. He'd had it all worked out, how this was the best way. _Too bad I forgot how dumb I can be sometimes. Though I'm sure this means I was right not to marry her, she deserves better._

"Well I'm headed to New York soon," Kurt declared. "Just for a few days, not permanently, but _someone_ has to make sure Rachel doesn't drown in her own tears. Her dads can't help much, she says she won't forgive them if anything happens to you because of their interference." He stood, but looked down at Finn one last time. "We did promise we'd go, you know," he said. "Whether we got in or not. I'm not proud that I backed out, but it has a lot to do with not wanting to leave Blaine. What's your excuse?"

"I'm not good enough."

"You picked quite the time to decide that, after you convinced her to agree to marry you," Kurt stated. "Shelby pulled the same thing on her, you know, pushed in and then changed her mind once Rachel opened her heart. But you're right, you're not good enough. Not because you're not talented enough, or smart enough, but because you're not willing to do what it takes to really love her. And that means be there, not be dead." Kurt turned and left without waiting for any response from Finn.

Finn looked from his mom to Burt and back again, stricken. "I really didn't mean it to be like this," he protested.

Burt frowned. "Look, I can't say I'm not relieved that you decided not to get married," he said. "That was idiotic in the first place. But why do you make it all or nothing? The two of you always talked about how honest your relationship was, why couldn't you have just talked this down instead?"

"She'd've talked me out of it," Finn mumbled, lowering his head to stare at the floor. "I know she would have."

"Out of joining the army?" Burt shrugged. "Maybe so. But you can't sit there and tell us that you're really choosing the army because that's the future you want to have. She _should_ have talked you out of it."

"It doesn't matter now, I signed up, I made a commitment," Finn stated, his voice flat.

"Oh, _now_ you start living up to your commitments," Carole said pointedly. "You picked a hell of a time to start doing that again."

"It's not a final commitment, Finn," Burt stated. "You don't do that until just before you ship out to Basic, and whatever you sign then, that's the way it is. I'll go with you for that, at least, whether you decide to do it or not you need to have someone look it over, some recruiters are shysters and half their promises don't make it into writing." He frowned again. "And if the recruiter doesn't see that you're not in a fit state of mind to be making a commitment like that - hell, you've changed your mind about what you wanted to do at least four times over the last six months - then you'd better believe this is going to be looked into."

Finn stared at Burt. "You can't stop me."

"No, I can't. But there's already concerns around Washington that recruiters are under too much pressure to find bodies for the army. They shouldn't be taking screwed-up kids who are making spur-of-the-moment decisions to run away and give up because it seems easier than dealing with potential failure, and that's what this looks like to me. One way or another, I'm gonna follow this up." He got up to leave, as did Carole. "You _think_ about all of this. Preferably with your head out of your ass this time."

* * *

Finn went to his room and stared at the wall. Then looked at the pictures by his desk, of Glee, of him with Rachel at prom. He saw how happy they'd been then, and he remembered what he'd told her, how she inspired him. But she'd been working towards New York for her whole life, he couldn't stand in the way, he'd made a mistake when he'd convinced her to compromise for him and he'd had to fix it.

But he also supposed he hadn't been inspired by her enough to work for what he wanted the way that she did, or even close to it. Maybe because he wasn't sure what he really wanted. Except he wanted Rachel to be happy, and she wasn't, he'd made her love him too much. Would she get over it, once she started at NYADA and found herself surrounded by all of the great people there? He'd hoped so, there would be guys so much better than him. But the reminder of her favorite movie and song, and what it meant, also reminded him that she'd loved them since she was a child. Rachel didn't let go easily, if at all. And he'd claimed he didn't give up easy... well he sure hadn't lived up to _that_.

Finn was lying on his bed, mentally kicking himself for how much he'd screwed everything up (_again_) when he heard three loud knocks on the door.

"Go away," he yelled out and turned away from the door. More knocks, louder. "I don't need another intervention."

More knocks came, the door rattling from the force.

"So what are you, the, uh, 'Ghost of Finn's Life Yet to Come?'" Finn asked sarcastically. The door received another hammering blow. Then he heard a voice, female, angry.

"You'd better believe it, Frankenteen. And you'd better let me in and listen, or I _will_ go all Lima Heights on your tubby ass, count on it. Especially since that's apparently where you keep your brains."

Finn rolled his eyes, but he wiped his face, opened the door and let Santana in. "Okay, I don't get this one," he stated. "What can you say about my life in the future?"

Santana sauntered into his room, going over to his desk. She turned the desk chair around to face Finn's bed, and ceremonially sat down in it. "Sit," she said, gesturing at the bed. He frowned but obeyed. She gave him a smug smile. "You're in luck," she said loftily. "Because I am the _nice_ version of the Ghost of Future."

"Really?" Finn raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Aren't you supposed to tell me about how I'm going to die alone and unloved?"

"Not unloved, Finn. Never unloved. The people you've helped, including me - we'll always love you for it. And if you go and join the army, and get your sorry self blown to smithereens in some corner of the world that will probably have oil, that casualty report is going to go up on Rachel's wall for the rest of her life. She'll carry it from lonely dressing room to lonely dressing room as all she has left of the one great love of her life. But hey, at least you won't have to see it. Or maybe you will, I'm not too clear on how the afterlife might work."

"I'll be fine in the army," Finn frowned. But tears were starting to come to his eyes at Santana's description, of Rachel mourning him and never getting over him, of her being the one to be lonely and unloved. He knew she'd been so lonely before they'd met. Still, the army option was all he had, all he thought he could do, and the only way he could see of stopping Rachel from delaying her future until he got his act together.

"Bet your dad thought that too."

"That's low." Finn glared.

"You dumped Rachel on your wedding day after stringing her along and making other plans behind her back. You don't get to talk about low." She leaned forward and smiled at him, her best I'm-up-to-something smirk. "But that is not what I'm here to talk about. This Ghost of Future wants to talk about a different future, one that doesn't suck. Which means I have to talk about _mine_."

"You've got that cheerleading scholarship," Finn said, not understanding the direction Santana was taking. Or anything about the whole thing and what she was doing there, if he was honest.

"It's nice to have options. But when it came down to it, I found I didn't want that one. I'm too independent to continue cheerleading and I'm not interested in some crappy degree. I want to perform, just like you do. And I'm a featured lead of the national champion show choir, just like you are. Only difference, aside from the fact that I am the ever-fabulous _me_, is that I have the _guts_ to do something about it." She tilted her head. "Well, and some money. Turns out my parents spent my entire life putting bits and pieces aside to pay for me to go to college, and it all added up. But I don't have to go to college with it, it's mine for my future. So I'm moving to New York. Know anyone there I could look up?"

Finn looked at the floor. "So my future will suck and yours won't. Real nice approach, Santana. Is that what you want to do, rub it in my face how much I've screwed my life up?" He hung his head, his voice choked up.

"What I want, Finn? What I want is a roommate."

It took a while for Santana's words to penetrate Finn's haze of misery. Then his head shot up to look at her. "What?"

"Look, do you want to make something of yourself in New York or not? Because that was all you could talk about for the last six weeks, ever since we got our disco on and you had your great vision of your future. It sounded like such a great plan that I decided I wanted to do it myself, I don't know why you're throwing it out. And you were going to have to pay for it anyway, whether you got into that program you liked or not, so what's stopping you? I'm sure the army isn't disbanding any time soon, it can wait while you try something else." She looked at him, pursing her lips. "You want to prove that you're good enough for Berry? _Do it._ Because as I see it, if the guy that really loves her takes himself out of the running with 'I'm not good enough', all she's going to be left with are the ones that either think they are by overvaluing themselves and undervaluing her, or just don't give a damn. Assholes like St. Jerkoff, and you know they love to take advantage of the vulnerable ones. And holy hell is she vulnerable, the sharks are probably circling already, just waiting for her to walk out on her own."

Finn realized he hadn't thought about that either - Rachel on her own in New York. They'd take care of her in the dorms, he supposed, and she loved New York. But he'd thought about there being better guys for her there, not predatory ones like St. Jackass, who'd swooped in the first time he'd pushed her away. He sighed. Everything he could do at this point seemed to suck beyond all measure.

Santana stood. "So I am leaving you with three options. One, talk to her and straighten this mess out yourself. Two, come with me to New York and work on a life you actually want, even that whole 'deserving' BS, though I have to warn you, get all overcome by teeth-aching nobility again and you're out on the street. Or Three, let me go to New York by myself, at which point I will look your girl up, get her drunk, and hook her up with some hot piece of manflesh who will have her moaning so hard and fast that she'll forget everything about you except her guilt. Pick one. Or more, options one and two would go fine together and I reserve the right to switch to option three at any time." She stopped at the door to give him a final pointed look. "Don't take too long, I have plans to make."

* * *

_Please review!_


	2. Cognitive Dissonance

Finn didn't sleep much that night, haunted by replaying those last few minutes with Rachel, hearing his voice say those things, seeing her crumple in tears over and over again, that sudden change from happiness to despair. Their last kiss goodbye, seeing her train leave, running after it and falling to his knees, over and over and over...

He fell asleep eventually just before dawn, and woke much later. He didn't feel much like doing anything, but he reluctantly got up, went down to the kitchen, and had something to eat. It didn't taste like much, though he didn't have a problem eating, so that was something, he supposed. He finished and put away his dishes, then looked for a distraction.

Was the house empty except for him? His mom was at work, Burt had been going into the shop, but he heard Kurt's voice coming from his room, talking. He went closer, some of Kurt's words starting to come out, and then heard the voice, responding...

_That's Rachel. He's talking to __**Rachel**__._ But her voice sounded different, thinner, choked... broken. _Oh God._ Finn slumped against the wall outside of Kurt's closed door, and he could make out the words now.

"No. No I don't." And she sounded so fragile, despairing... _I did that_. Finn slid down the wall, sitting against it as he continued to listen in to their Skype session. Rachel managed to go on, but her words, hearing her tortured voice, it broke his heart.

_What have I done to her?_

"I mean, at the time I could get a little into the drama and romance of it all, it didn't seem real, but now - it doesn't matter how he put it, I'm still alone. Still back to being just a voice, rejected by the only one I had thought really appreciated me and loved me as a full person." She sobbed again. "I guess I don't get to be a person after all, not a real one. I don't get to be loved, just admired, that's all I'm good for. He said he was setting me free but all I get to be is a bird in a cage, I get to sing but not to fly."

"Hey," Kurt protested. "Ease up on that, okay?" But Rachel just ignored him, barrelling through, still sobbing out her words.

"Sometimes I just wish I was tone deaf or something, that I didn't have this, like it's a curse, it takes over everything... but then I wouldn't have anything at all, would I, I'd just be nothing at all without my voice, I wouldn't even know who I was. But people can't see past it to _me_, I always thought Finn could but now I guess not."

_What? No, you're amazing, Rach. So much more than just your voice._

"Rachel, Finn loves you. Real you, not just your voice. He just doesn't want you to lose out on the stage, on NYADA. He wanted to make sure you followed your dream."

"My old dream."

"He thinks he broke you by getting you to be willing to abandon it for him."

Finn was relieved to hear Kurt put his arguments for him, to try to help Rachel understand. Even though yesterday Kurt had been arguing against him.

"How is it somehow so wrong for me to wait a year for him, but he can give up his whole life for me? How can I _ever_ live with that? All that wasted potential, that wonderful man even when he doesn't know he is, even when he pulls _stupid_ stuff like this, he's going to throw it all away, and for what? Because he couldn't figure out how to talk to me about it?"

_Is she right? I just thought she'd get over me if anything happens, I'm not that special. It'd hurt, but she'd find someone better. She'd probably find someone better anyway, I just don't want to be there to see it._

Rachel went on, still crying. "One year. He's going to go off and get killed, because he didn't want me to wait _one year_, and then I'm going to wish I was dead too. Or he'll come back and it'll be even worse than now, the better I do the more he'll just think he can't measure up, he can congratulate himself that he helped make it happen, and applaud like everyone else, but that pedestal is cold and drafty and the bars on the cage are hard and I don't want to be there, not for Finn." Rachel sobbed again. "My dream isn't special, you know. It isn't any different than anyone else's, and it's what it's always been. I just want to be loved, is that so hard? Am I so difficult that it was easier to lie to me and abandon me than to try to be with me? It's not like we had to get married, that was his idea."

_No... that's not what I was trying to do, it's me I can't handle..._

"And Broadway?"

Rachel sniffled. "I've probably always confused praise and applause with love," she admitted. "My dads combined the two, mostly. And I never had friends before, I was always alone, I wanted to find somewhere I would belong. For a long time I thought Broadway was the only place I could get that. Of course I love performing, but the big need for Broadway was more because I thought it was the only place I'd find people who'd accept me and love me. And... and I told him all this," she went on, her voice rising. "He asked me to be sure I really loved him, and I told him all this, how _he_'s where I belong, and he said I inspired him, and it's all such _crap_ because he left me _anyway!_"

_Please don't think that, I love you..._

"But he does love you, surely you believe that," Kurt said haltingly, and Finn could tell that he was crying too.

"I don't know what I can believe any more," Rachel said tearfully, her voice shaking. "Nothing makes sense."

And there was a pause, because Kurt probably didn't have anything he could say to that.

Then Finn heard a great heaving sob, and it was Rachel. "Nothing," she said. "This isn't living, this isn't _being free_, this is hell. And the army, he said that's because I can't follow him there..."

_I said that? Shit, I said that._

"I don't know if that's true or not, _god_, how could he be that desperate to get away from me..." Rachel sobbed again for a while. "They lost two more today," she continued eventually, softly. "It was on the news, my dads didn't turn it off before I heard."

Finn listened more closely. _Who lost two more what?_

"A transport went over a bomb, and two more men are coming home in coffins, if there's anything left of them at all, and -" Rachel couldn't continue.

_Oh. Shit._ Hearing Rachel barely able to gasp it out, it made the danger seem a lot more real.

"It would be different, if that was what he really wanted to do, at least I hope I'd try to support him, but... to risk that just to get away from me..."

_Not what I meant..._

"... or for my sake somehow..."

_well yes but..._

"... Finn's life is the most precious thing in the world to me, doesn't he know that, doesn't he know I'd give everything else up to save him, he doesn't have to marry me or love me..." and Rachel dissolved completely into sobs. Finn, sitting next to Kurt's door, crumpled too at hearing her so devastated, all over what he'd done. He'd never meant to hurt her like this; in thinking about how much he loved her, or thought he did, he hadn't given that much thought to how much she truly loved him. He'd been afraid to go to New York and be a failure, have to watch her be destroyed by him or leave him, and he'd pulled the plug himself instead of trying to do better.

He sat there crying, hearing Rachel's gasping sobs, Kurt yelling out over the link for Hiram since Rachel needed help. Then quiet, but Finn buried his head in his arms and cried on. _What have I done? To us, to her?_

Finn was brought out of it eventually by a sharp kick to his hip, and he looked up to see the furious face of his stepbrother. Kurt's eyes were red, he'd been crying too.

"You heard some of that, I take it," Kurt snarled. "_Good._ Because if you go through with it and anything happens to you, there'll be a lot more of that, and you can throw in your mom, my dad, and me while you're at it. Or are you so down on yourself that you think we're all complete idiots to love you and value you?"

Finn shook his head dumbly, not trusting his voice.

"That's a start. Now get your head out of your ass, Finn." Kurt kicked him again, and Finn started to move out of the way. "Because Hiram's practically begging me to come to try to break Rachel out of her fugue, but I know she won't want me to leave here as long as you might do something irrevocably stupid." He stepped back and let Finn rise, then continued to glare up at him. "And I'm not above doing something drastic, you still need to pass a physical."

Finn was taken aback by Kurt's uncharacteristic threat. "You've been taking pointers from Blaine?"

"Santana, actually. The Marquess of Queensberry would not approve, but frankly I don't care."

Finn wiped his eyes. "You actually know how to go all Lima Heights?"

"I know how to go a little Lima Heights. That, desperation, righteous fury, and superior foot coordination should be more than sufficient." Kurt's glare eased, but his look was still pointed. "Like she said, it'd be different if it was really something you wanted to do. But you're courting danger and you're putting it on her, that's a horrible thing to do to her, especially when you completely blindsided her with it. And to the rest of us, we're complicit if we go along with this. So please don't make me do it, but don't think that I won't." Kurt turned away and took a few steps, but stopped, hesitating.

Then he turned back suddenly, and was back in Finn's face. "Though don't tempt me. I don't know if you heard the part where she's terrified that nobody's ever going to be able to look past her talent to truly love her, but I think I finally understand the cathartic potential of violence, so _don't tempt me_." Kurt turned away again and stalked off. "How could you do that to her?" he yelled back.

* * *

_How did I screw everything up so much?_ Finn asked himself as he lay in his room, alone. _I thought everything through, I know I did, I just always forgot something... It's so fucked up, I just want to start over, but I can't._

Mistake had piled on mistake had piled on mistake, and each time he'd tried to fix the previous mistake it just got worse, overcorrecting, going too far the other way. Flailing out of control like a car swerving one way then another until it was flipped over in the ditch. He'd recognized how selfish he'd been in proposing, at least, desperate not to lose her because she was the only good thing he had. And he'd tried to pull back. But even then he'd made it all about him, his sadness at "letting her go" (_making her go_), his own feelings of inadequacy masking the concerns he should have had about how she'd take it. Forgetting that their engagement was, or should have been, as much his commitment to her as hers to him, her pain as real, that just because it hurt him to break it didn't mean it should be an easier commitment to break than the one he'd made to the recruiter. He'd always found it easier to break commitments to Rachel, somehow, which was awful, maybe because they didn't feel like obligations because he wanted to do them, so he didn't feel like he had to suck it up and do them anyway.

God, the recruiter. Well Burt was right that he could still back out. But backing out just felt like being a failure again, a quitter. Changing his mind, _again_, he'd been all over the map in the last few months, no wonder Rachel didn't know what she could believe any more. And no, he didn't know why she loved him, especially not when he did stuff like that to her. She had sounded so broken, so wretched, and he had done that.

He'd thought he was being so selfless, doing the right thing by Rachel, all the while ignoring what she'd want. Insisting that he could sacrifice but she never could, she was worth more than he was anyway, but she didn't see it that way. And his great noble selfless act, really about the most selfish thing he'd ever done, all about how _he_ felt, how _he_ couldn't bear the failures that were all he could see coming and how _he _couldn't live with himself if she gave up anything for him. Though part of that was guilt because he'd asked her to when he shouldn't have, and he was trying to fix it.

Trying to fix the past. He'd done that before too, hadn't worked then either. Fuck, he was such an idiot. At least she wasn't married to an idiot, even if she was in love with one. But though it was tempting to give into his panic to run and hide in the army, to hide from making decisions when he so obviously sucked at them, to gain some self-worth at least by living up to what he'd promised the recruiter, he couldn't shake how desperate she had sounded over the possibility that he could die. Now that he'd heard it, heard _her_, he couldn't do that. But he didn't know what else he could do instead, he was right back at "my life sucks" like he had been before, just now with a broken-hearted and traumatized Rachel to show for it.

He hadn't wanted her to give up anything for him... forgetting that what he was _making_ her give up _was_ him.

He'd made so many promises to her. Promised to go to New York and try to make something of himself there, and at least that promise was for something he'd actually wanted, even though he didn't see how he'd succeed. He'd let himself off the hook for breaking these promises as promises to himself, but he shouldn't let himself off the hook for breaking them to her.

Easier to risk a bullet than risk failure, really, you didn't have to live with yourself if you were dead. Game over, though this wasn't a game. But he'd done the hard thing before, he'd been reminded, and at least he could try. He owed it to her to try, and who knows, maybe he really did have some of the potential that she saw in him. He couldn't see it, but he couldn't see much these days. He'd certainly gotten the crowd going at Nationals, that was something, right? And after what he'd done to her, the misery he'd heard, he owed Rachel, even if it was just the chance to kick him in the teeth as he knelt begging at her feet.

Finn made up his mind, pulled out his phone, and called Santana. If nothing else, he knew she was one person who'd never let him back out of a commitment, and he'd better stick to this one.


	3. Facing Failure

That night Finn didn't sleep at all, his mind too full of Rachel's voice as he'd heard it earlier, so tortured and broken. Angry, furious, desperate, trapped by him into a loveless life without him, terrified for him.

_'Finn's life is the most precious thing in the world to me...'_

_'Nothing makes sense...'_

_'This isn't living, this isn't being free...'_

**_'I don't get to be loved...'_**

God, how he wanted to hold her, comfort her in her pain, kiss away her tears and show her he loved her. But he couldn't, he'd sent her away. Finn cried again, seeing the failure in himself in how he'd treated the one person he loved more than anything. And he got himself a glass of water, because he was thirsty from crying, from not sleeping, and from thinking about Rachel crying. She'd be drinking water too.

Even her more lucid words: _'if that was what he really wanted to do, at least I hope I'd try to support him...'_

But he'd signed up for the army quickly, to make the decision for her that she couldn't wait for him. He hadn't tried to talk to her at all about it, he hadn't given her the chance to support him, just assumed so very much and so very badly, and acted so suddenly.

And a possible eight-year commitment of his life - maybe the last of it if things went bad - that wasn't a decision he should have made suddenly, even if his motivation for it had been better. The recruiter had even said so, but Finn had been so eager to get the initial paperwork signed before the time came to put Rachel on the train, so it would be a done deal. If he'd had a better reason for doing it, he probably could have explained it to her.

Sure proved they weren't ready to get married, though. Not even close.

The next day, tired and drawn, he went to talk to the recruiter, Burt coming along but waiting at the back. The decision had to be Finn's, and if he did continue, someone else checking over the contract wouldn't be a bad thing.

But he couldn't go ahead with it, now that he knew how she was taking everything, and especially having realized that his main reason for doing it had been so wrong. So he apologized to the recruiter for wasting the man's time (not that he'd wasted all that much of it beyond the time to draw up the paperwork, since he hadn't really asked questions), took a few cracks about how not everyone was cut out for the U.S. Army, and agreed that if he later found he did have the proper calling to serve he would return to that recruiter.

"You are doing the right thing, Finn," Burt said as he drove them home. "Just because you want to be ready to do something like that doesn't make you ready, and there's no shame in realizing it."

"I guess."

"And I'm proud that you didn't rise to the bait the recruiter was throwing out, you stood your ground. It may not seem like much, but that was some heavy-duty lean you resisted back there."

"I just don't know what I'm going to do with my life now."

"Who says you have to decide now? You can keep working for me for a while if you like, no commitment needed. Or do something else, it doesn't have to be a permanent choice, and home is always here if you need it. I know it's hard when everyone around you is making big plans, but you shouldn't make plans just to have them, or feel you have to live up to what others do. You're not them, you're you. So it takes you a little longer to figure out what you want to do, so what. It's a big deal to make those decisions and you have a long time left to do whatever it is. Plus they say people change careers a lot these days anyway."

"You mean I might have to do this all over again?" Finn groaned.

Burt chuckled in response. "You might find something else you'd rather do, even once you've established yourself. Wouldn't make you a failure or a quitter, just someone who's found something else to do. Hell, do you think I had any clue of going into Congress, until not all that long ago?" He shook his head. "Life is a life-long process of figuring yourself out."

"Huh. I never really thought about it like that."

"You just need to believe in yourself enough to try. Enough to risk failure, that's the only way anything worthwhile ever gets done. Once you know you can survive failure, that something not working out the way you expected isn't the end of the world, strangely it seems to happen a lot less."

"I have to believe that I can fail?" Finn was puzzled. Usually he'd been told to believe that he could succeed, the whole 'visualize success and make it happen' stuff that they were told in sports. Failures were written off quickly.

"Believe that you can manage even if you fail at something, that you can handle it and still succeed as a person."

"Guess there's no do-overs, huh? Can't even write off the loss and move on to the next game."

"Only if you really want to write the _whole_ thing off and everyone in it. Do you?" Burt glanced at Finn, who shook his head. "Then you just have to keep going on, however you can. And while we can provide a bit of a landing pad, the belief really has to be yours. As a wise man once told me, nobody can believe in yourself for you."

_Believe in myself - guess the first person I let down was me._

* * *

Finn thought a lot about what Burt said, and about what he'd done. At least he wasn't running away, no matter how much he wanted to just write the whole thing off. He didn't see how Rachel would ever forgive him and wouldn't it just hurt them both more to try again, but - he'd already been so wrong about how she felt. And still, he loved her so much. This was a massive failure to face, but he didn't like the alternative either, and he really didn't want to accept that he didn't think she was worth trying for. She was.

"Dad said you gave the recruiter the bad news," Kurt said, looking in at his doorway. Finn looked up.

"Yeah." Finn sighed. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I guess I shouldn't do something like that just for something to do." He exhaled. "Could you tell Rachel I'm not joining up? Please?"

"You can't tell her yourself?"

"I've jerked her around too much, I don't know if I can trust myself to talk to her until I've worked something out, and I certainly can't ask her to trust me. But it won't be the army, you're right, I shouldn't do that to her, and I was really just running away. The recruiter's pissed but said he understood that it's not for everyone." He grimaced. "Did his best to put me down with how he said it, guess he wanted me to insist on proving him wrong, but..." he shrugged. "I have to get my act together, she's gonna have whiplash if I keep on going back and forth on her, maybe she already does. And she'll still believe you, right?"

"I think so. As much as she believes anyone or anything right now. She doesn't even believe herself, Finn."

"Then please? Tell her I love her and I'm not going into the army. The rest I have to figure out. But I'm going to try, really try this time. She's worth it." _And maybe someday I'll believe that I am too._

"Okay, I'll tell her. And I hope she believes it. She probably will eventually, she'll want to but that might get in the way at first."

"I did tell her how much I loved her at the station, even if it was dumb, I was doing it for her." Finn exhaled. "I know she was upset, but she still should have heard that," he finished quietly.

"She was in shock, you completely upended her world, you're lucky she heard anything," Kurt said. He saw Finn's expression of disbelief, and got hostile. "You must be _kidding_ me, Finn. You blindsided her deliberately and you know it, you sprang it on her so she couldn't argue, the only way you got her on that train like that was because she was numb. One moment she was happy, the next her world completely caved in, and _you know it_, so don't act like that wasn't the point of pulling it at the last minute."

Finn hung his head and nodded slowly, tears forming again. Yes, he'd told her at the last minute so she'd have to go along with it, he hadn't thought of what that would mean for her, how traumatizing that would be. And he loved her, he knew he did, even though he didn't see how he could and still do something like that to her.

"And what did you say anyway, that it's all for the best that you split up, she's better off without you, and maybe someday you'll meet again?" Kurt frowned. "Trust me, as someone who's often had the only Y chromosome in the breakup bitch session, guys say stuff like that to girls _all the time_. Mostly it's just a long string of soft-pedaling cliches that might temporarily make the breakup sound better than it is, forestall crying for long enough to let the guy escape, let him feel better about the fact that he just broke her heart and help him still pat himself on the back about what a good guy he is." Kurt took in Finn's shocked expression. "You're just unlucky enough to have actually meant some of it."

"I meant everything I said."

"Well you shouldn't have. And you were patting yourself on the back about your self-sacrifice, don't deny it." Kurt looked at him intently. "Did you really mean the part about 'later', though? Because I can't see her becoming a star and you becoming a grunt doing wonders to overcome your inferiority complex with respect to Rachel, and neither can she."

"But if she doesn't think I meant what I said, why is she so scared of me going into the army?"

"She doesn't know what to believe, it's all mixed up. It's like you tried that trick where someone removes a tablecloth without disturbing the dishes on top of the table, only you did it really badly and everything went flying and crashed together. Thinking and having things make sense are not Rachel's strong suit right now, she's still mostly in shock about what you did and her nerves are frayed. Though she's quite right about how the paths you were shoving the two of you on would just get farther and farther apart. And if that's what you want, you should at least be clear about it to yourself and to her."

Finn sighed. He hadn't really thought that far ahead, and mostly just figured that at least he could be happy that he'd done the right thing and helped Rachel become a star, he could love her from afar. But after hearing her cry about being doomed to be lonely and just a voice, he didn't know what was right any more, and being only loved from afar would suck. He'd thought he'd broken her by making her want him more than stardom, but he hadn't truly heard her broken until the previous day. Whether she wanted to be a star now or not, it was clear that it wasn't enough for her.

"Is what I said really that common?" he asked Kurt.

"There's a drinking game for breakup cliches, and 'I don't want to get in the way of your future' is on it. It's a full glass, usually, so I suggest you do whatever you need to do to stop Santana from getting Rachel to play the game. Especially if it's the full game that includes a sudden surprise, a time limit, and friends showing up, since those are worth extra and she'd be plastered in no time."

Finn shuddered. Rachel was too small to hold much booze, and he remembered Santana's option three. "I really did think that we could end up back together somehow," he said quietly. "I don't know, maybe I worried too much about whether we're meant to be or not."

"Drink." Kurt met Finn's quizzical gaze. "'Not meant to be' is on the list." Finn rolled his eyes at Kurt. "Consider it this way - wouldn't you feel better about yourself if you actually earned her back?"

And Finn smiled, finally. "Yeah."

"Then do your best. It's all she'd ask of you, you know that."

"Yeah." And Finn knew it was, he'd been the one who had thought he wasn't good enough, she had never given him reason to think so (beyond her long-ago "bigger than you" rant that she'd lashed out with after he'd manipulated her). She'd always said he was better than the rest, certainly better than he'd thought he was, even when they weren't together. Hell, even when she was with Jesse she'd still talked him up. She'd challenged him as well, to be better, but that was the opposite of saying that he couldn't be.

But he had to believe in himself, nobody could do that for him, not even Rachel. He hadn't really let her anyway, he loved her so much but maybe he'd never really accepted her loving him back, especially the strength of it, he'd never felt worthy. So while he'd done what he'd done extremely badly, and he'd always regret how his sudden actions had hurt her, maybe it was just as well he was going to do this on his own, without her next to him. Whatever "this" would be.

* * *

Finn went to see Kurt just before he was to leave for New York, and held out a sealed envelope. "Can you please give this to her for me?"

Kurt pulled his hand back, leaving the note with Finn. "No."

"_No?_"

"It's sealed. If you won't talk to her directly and let her respond, I don't think you should be saying anything to her that hasn't been vetted by someone else, and not just by her dads, either. I'm certainly not willing to be the conduit for any more of your well-meaning disasters."

Finn frowned, but ripped open the envelope and showed Kurt the note he'd written. "_Okay?_"

Kurt read it and nodded slowly. "Okay." He took the folded note and put it in the top flap pocket of his shoulder bag.

"Please take care of her."

"I will."

* * *

_A/N: A wise man once told me, "Nobody can believe in yourself for you." Thanks, Dad._

_Please review!_


	4. Someone to Lean On

Rachel was relieved to get a text from Kurt telling her that he was on his way, and that Finn wasn't enlisting after all. She was still in tears most of the time, her black fugue easing only at night when she went to sleep almost robotically according to her schedule, only to start crying again as soon as she woke up.

She had been "given up" by the one she was sure was the only man she'd ever love, who she'd felt so connected to, and the sudden severing of the rapport she thought she'd had with him and abandonment of the future she thought she would have made her question everything. Everything she had thought they'd had together, had any of that been real? _How could you just give up someone you thought you were tethered to, Finn?_ It's not like the tether could bring them back together, it hadn't saved Sue Sylvester's sister. _If you love me and really wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, why couldn't you talk to me about what you wanted? Wasn't I open enough, I know I asked, I was there for you... If you didn't want a life with me, why did you work so hard to convince me to agree to marry you?_ Around and around and around, a great dark vortex in her mind and soul. _The only one who I thought really understood me, and he's gone, and maybe he was never really there._

Sometimes, longing for him, hoping still that it had been real. _Please, Finn. Please._

Sometimes, her memories taunted her: finding love and passion and joy in Finn's arms, prom, Nationals, graduation... _You thought you were so happy but you weren't. It was nothing._ Insubstantial. Meaningless. _Go sing, songbird. It's all you are._ And always the feeling that this was all there was and all there would be for her.

Additionally, the revelation of her fathers' betrayal, and their outright manipulation of her, left her with really nobody she could trust, nobody that she felt was really the same person she had thought they were, until Kurt arrived.

* * *

Kurt was barely in the door before Rachel flew into his arms, desperately needing his comfort, and they stood there for a while, Kurt rubbing her back. Hiram and LeRoy looked on for a few moments, then decided to leave them to it, quietly thanking Kurt as they went into the other room.

"Thank you for coming," Rachel whispered.

Kurt nodded, stepping back to smile at her. "Any time, diva." Then he swallowed, reached for his shoulder bag, and took out a folded piece of paper. "Finn asked me to give you this," he said quietly, passing it over to Rachel.

She took it cautiously and unfolded it, her insides twisting as she saw the familiar handwriting. She pursed her lips, marshalled her courage, and read.

_Dear Rachel,_  
_I love you._  
_I'm just an idiot because I really did think that what I was doing was for the best, for you. Pushing you away is the last thing I really wanted to do but I felt that I had to and I made myself do it because I didn't want to. I'd take it all back if I could, but I can't, and I can't make all the hurt I've caused you go away. The one thing I can be sure of, aside from that I love you, is that I'm obviously not ready for any sort of commitment, because I don't know what I'm doing. That includes the army, so you don't need to worry about that. I guess I have to figure myself out._  
_I am so very sorry for what I did to you and how I did it. I hope someday you can forgive me._  
_I know I will never stop loving you._  
_Finn_

Tears trickled down Rachel's cheeks. "Did you read it?" she asked.

"Yes," Kurt answered. "I wouldn't bring it to you otherwise, his last unsupervised attempt is what brought us here."

Rachel nodded, her eyes still fixed on the note. "Do you think he means it?" she asked softly.

"Yes."

"Or he thinks he means it."

"What's the difference?"

She twisted her hand tightly in the hem of her shirt. "I thought I was falling for Jesse but I was wrong. Finn thought he loved Quinn but he later said he was wrong. He could be wrong now too."

"Rachel, Finn loves you."

"Maybe he doesn't really know me." More tears fell. "How could he know me, really know me, and think that I would ever want something like that?"

"He's scared. Scared that he could never measure up to you."

"I don't need him to measure up to me like that, it's not a competition. My talent's been groomed since I was a baby and we've always balanced each other." She choked back a sob. "If he loves me so much, why couldn't he love me enough to try? Or talk to me about things?" _He said he was worried about my regretting my choice of fiance - how did he not realize that I never could, I'm imprinted, __it's not a choice any more, and even now if that was really him he's wonderful and I could never regret him? __I gave him what he asked for, did I not see the warning signs that he needed more?_

"I don't know. He wants to try, now. He's just not sure at what."

"Without me?" _He said he knew he'd be okay as long as he had me..._

"He knows how much he hurt you, and he doesn't trust himself not to do it again. He knows he can't just step back into your life and pretend he didn't do it."

Rachel nodded silently and wiped her tears.

"He thought he was being very brave, you know," Kurt said. "Giving up what he loved most, for the sake of your future."

"I don't want to be given up. I want to be able to choose. And a decision like that should have been made together, at the very least he shouldn't have lied to me, made me think we were _going to get married_."

"I know. And he knows too. He just didn't fully think it through, you know how Finn's been, he doesn't feel worthy so he can't see how he could matter so much to someone else. Even you. Especially you, since he loves you so much, it's terrifying to need something that much, it makes you extra insecure." He looked intently at Rachel. "You understand _that_."

Rachel nodded slowly. "Very brave, you said." She could see Finn thinking that, including the "I will go into the army for her" part that she was so relieved he'd apparently given up. For a moment _her_ Finn, the Finn she'd thought existed and was hers, came back into focus.

"That's our boy. Very strong, very brave, and very stupid."

Rachel gave a small reflexive smile, recognizing Anna Russell's description of the operatic Siegfried. It felt like the first time she'd smiled since just before she'd seen the train station.

Kurt smiled back. "And you don't even have to be all that stupid, you saw how Blaine and I got, as soon as we felt each other start to slip away we just got worse and worse until we were practically at each others' throats, and not in the good way."

"How are you and Blaine doing?"

"We're good. Not just because I'm still living in Lima for now, but we worked through some of our insecurities at least. We've recognized the problem. And we also can see how bad it can get, we don't want to go there."

"So glad my pain makes a useful object lesson."

"Always learn from the mistakes of others. And you've been in enough pain for half the Midwest, it'd be a shame if we couldn't learn from it." Kurt smiled encouragingly and took her hands in his. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Now?"

"Sure. You want to have choices, let's make some. New wardrobe? It may seem shallow but you really do need to be extra fabulous if you're taking on New York on your own. And I'm sure your dads would pay for it, it's the least they could do."

"I wish they had stayed with the 'least they could do' before." A few more tears flowed down Rachel's cheek. "I don't even have them any more," she said quietly. "Finn was stupid and insecure, and I can get that even though I hate what he did to me, but my dads have no excuse, they manipulated us right into this disaster." She sniffled. "I even think they wanted something like this, not this bad, but me going into NYADA and being scared of relationships, their little songbird in a gilded cage." She wiped her eyes ineffectively. "Between them and Finn, almost every happy memory I've ever had has been blackened."

Kurt hugged her tightly, and let her cry into his shoulder.

"Do you think he wants to come back?" Rachel whispered. "Instead of just moving on?"

"I..." Kurt demurred. "I think he wants to."

"I understand if you can't tell me things," Rachel sighed. "Now, or later... just please don't lie to me." She gave a small whimpering sob. "I really need someone who doesn't lie to me."

Kurt pulled back to look her in the eye, and nodded. Then he raised his eyebrow. "Not even a little white lie about your wardrobe?"

The corners of Rachel's mouth turned up a little, just for a split second. "Not even. I would never want you to compromise your fashion integrity."

"Be careful what you ask for." He smiled. "So you need to wash your face, sweetie, and use the good moisturizer, all that salt is not good for your skin. I'll look into the funding for our little expedition."

Rachel nodded and went to the bathroom to wash, treat, and make up her face, doing her best not to think about how she looked. Trying not to judge herself any further. Kurt was waiting for her when she emerged.

"Great. Now let's get you all New York fabulous, courtesy the bastard child of Rose Hovick and Niccolo Machiavelli." Kurt held up LeRoy's credit card, which he'd talked out of its owner without difficulty. He linked arms with Rachel and led her out, singing lightly. "_Come on babe why don't we paint the town..._"

* * *

They headed to the stores on Fifth Avenue for an afternoon of shopping. Kurt managed to hold himself and his opinions back much more than usual, giving approval and disapproval when asked for, and he filled in with suggestions that would stretch her style.

And it wasn't about the clothes; in his own way, Kurt was taking care of Rachel, showing her attention and love in a manner that she found familiar and could still trust. It also helped that Kurt was really the only person she'd ever shopped much with, nothing about clothes-shopping reminded her of Finn (barring a few of the items, quickly avoided by Kurt), so the activity opened up a different part of her mind and memories from the ones that were currently so tortured. And in listening to Kurt about some of the clothes and a variety of things she could wear them for, she started feeling that she did still have choices, and that she could at least somewhat enjoy the one big thing that now seemed to be all she had open to her, her studies at NYADA.

"Or you could say 'screw it' to the whole college thing and just start auditioning," Kurt commented at one point.

"Kurt!"

"Well you could. Colleges aren't jails, and they treat the students as independent adults, within their rules. Carmen Thibideaux does not answer to your dads."

"I don't think Carmen Thibideaux answers to anyone."

"Probably not. But all I'm saying is that if you want to walk away, or you still want to defer, you can. Go see the world for a year. Audition, here, anywhere. Hang out in Lima, even. Become a waitress in a diner in a small town in Wyoming or a torch singer and elegant young woman of mystery in New Orleans. Anything you want, as long as you can do it yourself."

Rachel frowned. It was tempting, it would certainly show the people who had so heavy-handedly made her life choices for her. But no, she shouldn't hurt herself out of spite, and that's what that would be. NYADA was the best musical theater program, she'd been accepted, and the only thing worth deferring it for had been ripped away from her. Even though that was _why_ it had been ripped away, she couldn't deny that NYADA was still by far the best choice that remained to her. She shook her head.

Kurt nudged her. "Oooh, I know. You could coach Vocal Adrenaline, I hear they need someone new again."

Rachel giggled, and Kurt smiled at the sound. "Well if I didn't care about keeping the job after a year, imagine what I could do with all those resources."

"Huge set pieces. Special effects. Amazing mashups of Broadway songs."

"Yes."

"Trying to stay the coach of Vocal Adrenaline is clearly an exercise in frustration anyway. I'm almost sorry for Jesse St. James for trying." Kurt laughed. "Almost."

"Yes, well, apparently he's human after all."

"No lizard heart? Guess I lost that bet."

Rachel smiled. "No, he actually put in a good word for me with Ms. Thibideaux, at Nationals. Without anything to gain for himself. He's not totally cold-blooded."

"Just mostly." But Kurt shrugged. "I owe Blaine, then. Not that I mind owing Blaine."

"Of course not."

Kurt looked again at the displayed clothes, and shook his head in lighthearted despair. "Now why didn't they get this one in the red, it's part of the original collection. It would go so well with that skirt and look amazing on you."

Rachel smiled at him. "You're very good at this." He met her eyes, acknowledging the implication that she meant far more than just fashion. "_Thank you._"

* * *

A few days later, with Rachel's dads having obtained special permission from the school, Kurt helped Rachel move into the NYADA dorms, then headed home.

* * *

_Thank you for reading. Please review!_


	5. Trying Times

In mid-July Finn packed his things up into his truck and drove to New York. He brought his drum kit, thinking that drumming was one thing he'd like to continue with, even see if he could find people to play with. He knew he wasn't that good, comparatively, but he could still give it a try.

Santana had found a small apartment in Brooklyn, two small oddly shaped bedrooms (she got the larger one in exchange for paying more of the rent), a tiny bathroom and kitchen, and a decent sized living room. It was above some stores, with a tapas bar at the end of the block, and Santana was already working there part time.

Finn started looking for work right away, not wanting to dig too far into the money his mom had fronted him. Jobs fell into three categories: anything to earn some money, car mechanic work, and stuff he thought he might be interested in long-term (acting, drumming mostly).

Acting didn't look like it was going much of anywhere, though he had some headshots done and sent out to possible agents. Unfortunately soaps, the main possibility for young would-be actors, had really been cut back recently, with many long-running ones cancelled, so short of getting into acting school it seemed like a dead end. Santana, who had had similar results from her inquiries, didn't believe in dead ends, and decided that they should start reading through scenes together for practice and considering any auditions they could find. Finn went along with the readings even though he thought it was a lost cause; maybe it wouldn't be for Santana, and he really owed her for coming up with this scheme in the first place and bullying him into coming. The least he could do is help her practice, and it was kind of fun. Except for those times when the stuff they were doing reminded him of Rachel, but after some early attempts Santana mostly didn't push it.

Music he had more hopes for, and he haunted some of the music stores and online boards to talk music and drumming. There were a few more promising contacts there, but so far nothing that had gone beyond "not bad, kid, keep it up." One of the music stores at least took his info down for when they needed staff in future.

Meanwhile, something had to pay the bills. He had good experience and even a reference letter from his work at Burt's, and there were a couple of garages that said they'd keep him in mind if they needed someone. (_If_, great.) But the first actual job he got was bussing tables at a diner elsewhere in Brooklyn. It wasn't much, but it was something, and it was family-run, with owners that seemed pretty nice and cool about his dreams of doing something else.

* * *

Finn found that sharing a place with Santana was actually not bad. She even put up with his drumming, on condition that he took it seriously, and managed to needle him into a slightly different wardrobe, darker ("you have to look the part, Finnertia"), though only for pounding the pavement and trying to make connections. He promised to get his own back someday for the time she ambushed him with a pair of scissors and 'modified' his hair, but she claimed he'd earned it by moping excessively that week, and he ended up keeping it a bit shorter after all. Her fault anyway, she'd been trying _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ and hearing her read through Maggie's appeal to Brick to love her again had made him totally lose it.

And every week they spent an evening doing something Santana called "Rejection is a Bitch, But So Am I": making fun of the formulaic responses they'd gotten from their inquiries and applications that week. Finn had found getting the stock phrases depressing, like he couldn't even be original enough to get an original reply, but Santana was determined that the lame response said more about the person giving it than the person getting it, and it did feel better to regularly air out the crap that had been flung their way. They would repeat what they'd been told, classify it, have a drink, and move on.

Okay, so it seemed a lot like the breakup drinking game that Kurt had told him about, just with different rejection phrases, but it worked. And it kept Finn looking for and following up leads, too, since he really didn't want to not have something to offer when the time came to compare. Santana wasn't kidding about being a bitch, but as always she wore it with pride, and now directed her anger much more productively than she had during most of high school.

And Santana pushed herself very hard, so that even the week where she had success to report, being taken on as a singer for a small-time salsa band, she still had a few rejections and a whole pile of noncommittal "we'll see" responses so that Finn's three "we'll be in touch if we're interested" and one "we're not sure you're what we're looking for" had company. (_Why was it 'what'? Couldn't it be 'who'? Anyway._) So Santana bought pizza to celebrate her success, they passed around the bottle of vodka that she kept in the freezer for the bitch session, and Finn did his best to forget that he should have been comparing successes and rejections with Rachel instead. Though that wouldn't have involved drinking like this, so sometimes the heartache was a little easier to ignore. Still, it hurt to realize that he was developing little habits and rituals with the wrong person. At least these wouldn't last, right? The ones he'd develop with Rachel, in the future he really did hope they'd have someday, those would last. This was just a little game with his roommate, something short-term that he wouldn't want to have to put up with for a long time anyway. And his rapport with Rachel (if they could ever re-establish one) would be a lot better, he'd hate for her to have to nag him the way Santana was only too happy to.

He caved a couple of times when he was in upper Manhattan, wandering by the NYADA campus to see if there was any sign of Rachel, trying to be sneaky about it because he really wasn't ready to meet her yet, no matter how much he missed her. The second time he spotted her, walking away from one building towards the sidewalk, and his insides turned into a twisted mess. He froze and stared, and as the initial impact of seeing her again faded he kept watching, trying to figure out how she was.

She looked thinner, a little drawn, tightly composed, her every movement tightly controlled. The Rachel Berry laser focus and determination was definitely there in her face, but she lacked that bubbly energy he adored. He knew he could easily just stand there and look at her forever. (Though she'd notice eventually.)

God, he was such an idiot, pushing her away like that. Or at least he had been, he was trying not to be so much of one. All she'd wanted to do was love him, and she'd given him everything he'd asked for, it was only too much because he'd asked for too much.

Except he still didn't see how he deserved her, even more now after what he'd done to her. When he'd voiced this back at the apartment, one night when he'd been feeling particularly crappy about the exercise in futility that his efforts in music seemed to be, Santana told him that love makes everyone do dumb things.

"It could be worse," Santana said pointedly, smirking. "Remember back when you were jealous over her being with St. Jerkoff and you decided to sleep with me?"

Even in his despondency, Finn had to give a small chuckle at that. "So you're saying I haven't hit rock bottom, this time?"

"That was rock bottom for both of us. May we never get that screwed up again. Literally or figuratively."

Also bad was the time he was walking near Times Square and recognized the place where he'd asked her to take a chance on him; she had, even though not right away, and he'd ended up throwing it back in her face. When she'd wanted to pull away he hadn't let her, and by the time he'd been able to convince himself to let her go she was in too deep. Had he been right then, so sure of their tether? Or later, when he'd thought he had to fix it by making sure she left after all?

He hadn't changed how he felt about her, though. Whatever happened in the future, Finn knew he'd never love anyone like he loved Rachel Berry.

* * *

August turned into September, and September was turning into October. Finn was still looking for any performing opportunity, the relentless rejections grinding him down. His latest audition was for drumming, for a newly formed rock band (though since they didn't have a drummer yet, he thought 'band' was overstating things) whose members had dreams of being the next big kickass thing in the local college scene. So he laid it on hard, playing for them back at the apartment because the drums were the hardest to move, and then jammed with them for a couple of songs. It was cool, and he was happy to see he'd been able to keep pace with them, even though they were a bit older, mid-twenties.

Then he busied himself in the kitchen getting some snacks while they conferred. It didn't take long.

"Hey, Finn, that was great, but -"

_But._ Finn steeled himself. _Wonder if they'll try to be original._

"- we're not sure you're quite what we're after."

_Drink,_ Finn thought grimly. _Why did I ever think I could do this?_

The bassist must have seen his not-entirely-suppressed frown, and he elaborated a bit. "Actually we think we've already found our drummer, but we'd set this up and wanted to give you a chance anyway. Hope you didn't think we wasted your time."

_'We've already filled the position.' Drink._ Finn schooled his expression. "Nah, it was good to play with you guys, I haven't had much opportunity to jam recently, I enjoyed it. Hope you do well, look forward to hearing your stuff when you make it." _'Don't burn bridges,' Santana says, and if **she** can manage to be nice so can I._

"Yeah, thanks." The guys whispered a little amongst each other, shrugged a little, then the bassist (_Wes?_) looked back at Finn.

"Actually we might be able to help each other out a little," Wes (_yeah, it was Wes_) said.

_That's new._ Finn looked at them curiously.

"Tyler, the guy we're gonna go with? He's feeling guilty about leaving his current band, he'd rather get things going with us but they've got a weekly gig and him leaving's gonna put them in a spot." Wes shrugged. "Maybe you'd be interested in that, it's all cover tunes and it's gotten boring for him but you gotta start somewhere, right?"

_Ah, what? Hell yes._ "Uh, _yeah_, I'd be interested," Finn replied quickly. "What sort of stuff do they play?"

"Eighties and late seventies covers mostly." The lead guitarist, Damien, laughed. "Gen-X has money now and wants to hear their tunes played by bands that remind them of when they were younger. It's gotten mixed reviews, largely good. Your playing style would suit if you can stand the nostalgia and keep up with the repertoire."

Finn did his best not to look too eager. "I should be fine. My, uh, school music teacher had a thing for stuff like that, we played a lot of it."

"We can pass your email along, anyway," Wes put in. "At least it'd help Tyler get out of the guilt trip and we can get our stuff going seriously sooner, if he can give them at least a fill-in."

"Sure, great, thanks man." _Yes! Okay, it's just a lead, calm down, but... weekly gig. Wow. And sounds like they'd need someone soon, __someone who knows that stuff already. And I know it._

_Wow, can't wait to tell... **Rachel**._

Finn sighed.

* * *

_Dance Hall Daze_ consisted of Daryl (lead guitar and vocals), Scott (bass guitar), and Irene (keyboards and vocals), all three in their early twenties. They were none too pleased to be losing Tyler, who'd been playing with them for over a year, and grumbled a bit that apparently Tyler considered passing along Finn's information to be quite sufficient at "helping them out until a replacement could be found". They were certainly less than happy to find out that he was "an amateur kid". But they came and played with Finn, sounded grudgingly impressed, and agreed to give him a try at their regular spot that Thursday in Lower Manhattan.

They also weren't thrilled that he was underage, since their regular and other gigs were at bars, but the laws had entry exceptions for the acts, and when pressed Finn swore that he wouldn't drink anything except soft drinks and water at the gigs. He'd never had alcohol when playing anyway, even when rehearsing with Puck, and after he'd have to take care of his kit.

Finn really wanted this to work out. So he spent every free minute over the next few days practicing with their set list, learning the few he didn't know, reminding himself of the rest, and bracing himself for a few numbers that made him think of Rachel too much. "Go Your Own Way" was going to be particularly tough on him, even with Daryl singing it more like the original; some of the words were even more true now than they'd been when Rachel had sung it. _If I could, baby I'd give you my world, how can I, if you won't take it from me..._ He just had to keep his mind on his drumming and not hear Rachel's accurate complaint in it, at least not at the gig.

Thursday went well, and the others, again grudgingly, agreed that Finn could continue. Mostly he figured they just didn't like someone else finding their bandmate for them, so Finn doubled down on being helpful and reliable, practiced even more of the material, and over the next few weeks they eased up on him as they worked through their annoyance at Tyler.

Two weeks into it they asked if Finn could sing, and were happy (but strangely not that surprised) when he said yes. Apparently the "mixed" part of the "mixed reviews" had been about the sameness of the vocal sound and some criticism of the guitar on rock pieces; Daryl insisted he could wail the axe solos no problem but was stretched too thin with playing and singing, and subbing in Finn on vocal in parts of a few numbers cleared up both problems at once. Irene and Daryl were a couple and kept all the duets, which suited Finn just fine. Daryl's voice was a bit lower than Finn's (a lot like Puck's, actually) so they added a few new pieces that the regulars had been wanting to the sets, and a little harmony at times.

It wasn't much, but it was regular, and playing, even some singing, and... as Finn looked at the check in his hand after the third gig, when they'd said he could stay, he realized he was now technically a paid musician.

Yeah, okay, _drummer_. They'd started in on the drummer jokes right after the first gig, he guessed when they figured he could take it, and he rolled his eyes as expected and left it at that. He didn't want to get into the whole "hey, a drummer without a girlfriend, how come you're not homeless" stuff anyway. But they were good easygoing people outside of their dedication to the band, and they offered a lot of apparently good advice on how to get more into parts of the local music scene, though not far enough that they'd need to find another replacement.

It wouldn't come close to fully pay the bills, but it helped, and he was getting paid for music. People were actually paying money to come into a bar and hear him (and three other people) play. Loud enough so they couldn't talk over it, this was definitely not background music.

_Totally cool._

Fifty of it went into the jar stuffed at the back of his middle drawer, where he was trying to build back the grand that he and Rachel had built up for their honeymoon. Whatever happened in the future, it really didn't feel right that he'd used some of it for that damned train ticket. He hadn't touched the rest.

The rest - well, Daryl had been on him to join the local musician's union, since the rest of them were members. A good way to get more into the business, Scott had said, backing up Daryl, and there were more advanced players that he could find through the union that offered lessons. There wasn't much left once he contributed to that and put a bit aside for gear and instruction (and paid for a celebration meal to thank Santana for all of her special brand of encouragement), but he'd get more next week, and it didn't interfere with his job at the diner.

* * *

A few weeks into the drumming gig, Finn got a phone call from the garage three blocks down, they had an opening. It was to do mostly the same stuff he'd been doing at Burt's, tires, part replacements, that sort of thing, but it paid better than the diner and had promotion possibilities.

But... it was less flexible, very regular hours. The diner owners let the staff trade shifts a lot, as long as everything got covered. He'd already done some trading to get the last audition arranged, and he'd be able to keep doing that if he got more gigs, as long as he had a few days' notice. The garage wouldn't be like that, the job was more sure, but also would be more stuck in place. He could keep up with the band, but it would be hard to fit anything more in.

Next time he was in Manhattan he found himself going past NYADA, at the same time of day he'd seen Rachel before, and there she was again, walking by herself to the cafe down the block. He gazed at her, wishing so much that he felt he could just go and talk to her, ask her what he should do, or just talk to her about anything. Just listen to her, even. He loved the sound of her voice but he guessed he hadn't really heard what she'd been saying with it, those times he'd been so wrapped up in feeling that he wasn't going anywhere.

She stopped and turned back for a moment, and he quickly turned away. At least she wouldn't expect to see him here, if she thought she saw a glimpse of someone like him she might write it off as a chance resemblance or wishful thinking.

On his way back home, he called the garage and turned them down.

* * *

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	6. Face to Face

The band had a special late Hallowe'en gig for November 2, as the second opening act in a big party with 4 bands, set to go until 2am. Earlier that week, the word came from the venue that they wanted a last push to sell tickets, so Finn found himself in midtown Manhattan in the middle of the day, putting up the latest eye-catching poster design. Their old posters were long since gone or covered over, this way they'd get the last-minute eyes as well, Irene had explained. She was good at thinking about stuff like that, he'd found, and she sure seemed right that any tickets sold through their band would make them look better to the organizers. So he took a roll of posters under his arm and tried to find anywhere that would let him put them up.

He was almost out of them, just having put a poster up on the wall of a independent cafe, when he turned around and suddenly came face to face with 5'2" of highly agitated brunette. _Rachel... _All he could do was stare.

Her jaw was clenched, and tears were in her eyes as she simply looked back at him, standing with her arms crossed as if waiting for him to say something.

"Uh... hi Rachel," Finn stammered.

"'Hi Rachel'?" A few tears were starting to trickle down her cheek. "Damn it, Finn, after all this, that's what you have to say to me?" She was clearly on edge, torn between anger and tears.

"Well, uh, you know I'm not good with surprises -" Even as the words slipped out he knew it was completely the wrong thing to say, but he seemed unable to stop it.

It did, at least, bring Rachel squarely down on the side of anger, and she let loose on him. "Oh, is that so? I happen to think you're simply _fabulous_ with surprises, at least when you're the one dishing them out!" She stepped up to him as she yelled, her voice increasingly loud and fast. "They're not very consistent ones, of course, but I suppose I shouldn't expect too much. Ask me to marry you, promising that you'll come to New York? Change all of that when you listen to that motherfucker Puckerman instead, want to go to L.A., and storm off when _I _don't have an acceptable answer right away? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Finn blanched at Rachel's profanity. She was _really _pissed off. Though in true Rachel Berry fashion, her term for Puck was literally true, she'd probably wanted to use it for a while. And Finn knew he'd earned this reaction and then some, if he thought he was surprised to run into her, surely she was even more surprised to see him in New York. She was talking rapidly but he tried to follow, this wasn't something he should tune out, but it was hard, Rachel in rant mode was fearsomely fast and he wasn't used to it any more.

"Demand that I compromise without warning? Oh, and here's the killer, let me know if you remember _this_ one, when you executed your carefully constructed plan to suddenly _dump me on the way to our wedding!_" With that she shoved him back against the poster, turned to stalk off, but broke down in tears and slumped against the doorframe, her arm wrapped around her abdomen as if to try to hold herself together.

"Rachel..." Finn's voice was hoarse too, he hated that she was still so upset, her emotions so obviously raw and confused, even after several months. But he really shouldn't have expected much else, he'd given her no way to work through it. He tried to approach her, forestalled momentarily by someone else coming out of the cafe and brushing past them, not stopping to wonder what was going on.

He put his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, and she shrugged it off violently, holding her stomach as she continued to cry.

"Just tell me one thing, Finn," she sobbed out, turning to look at him again. "Did you mean _any of it_? That you loved me, that you needed me and wanted to be with me, the proposal, how hard you worked to convince me to accept it, prom, all our plans, any of it? Because you certainly had me completely fooled, especially that last day, I don't know what Pace was thinking rejecting you, your acting is _genius_."

That accusation cut, deeply; he knew he'd messed up with how he'd pulled the rug out from under her, but how could she say or even think that all they'd been together, any of it, was a lie? "Rachel -" Finn protested, trying to block out his hurt at what she'd said, but he simply snapped, unable to hold in how he felt. "_I've always loved you._" And she was so close to him, and he'd missed her so much... Well if she wanted proof, she'd get it. He grabbed her, dropping his few remaining posters, and he kissed her hard.

She froze initially, her lips stiff, but he continued, and after a moment she started to kiss him back. Then she pushed him away forcefully. "You don't get to manhandle me. Just because I can be overpowered doesn't mean you get to do it."

Finn blinked, his fragile self-control coming back. "I know, I'm sorry... I just - you kissed me back."

"I kissed you back because I love you, you idiot, but you still don't get to push me around. _Ever._"

And Finn did know that, everything had always been mutual before and they both wanted that. He knew she liked that he was strong but also that he was gentle with his strength, that she always had a choice. Just like the choice he'd denied her when he'd put her on the train. After that, she was probably even less interested in him pushing her around. But she _had _kissed him back, and she said she loved him... and she wouldn't have done that if she'd really thought it had all been a lie. She was doubting herself and him, sure, but also just pissed off and needing to express it, now that she could.

He exhaled. "I know. But... if you can believe anything, believe that I love you. I've never lied about that, or about what I _wanted _to do. I just didn't know what to do, or how to handle any of it, and I panicked and did one thing and then realized I shouldn't have and panicked again and went too far the other way..."

"And you couldn't tell me the truth?"

"I didn't want to hurt you." This prompted a disbelieving stare from Rachel, and he shook his head. "I know I sucked at that too, okay, you don't need to tell me that. I couldn't bring myself to hurt you until things got to the point where I didn't think I had a choice. But you got my note, right?" he asked, and she nodded slowly.

"It said you were trying to figure yourself out. Somewhere. I suppose I should be grateful that you told me anything at all, that at least I knew you weren't actually trying to get yourself killed." Her face, though, looked murderous, like if he did want to die she could help. "Five seconds," she went on, tearing up again. "I was so happy that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you, and five seconds later I didn't know if I would ever see you again, and now you're here in New York and I didn't even know it, and..." Her hands, balled into fists, flailed at her sides. "I don't know what to think, and I feel _so much_, and... and you're here, and it looks like you've been here for a while, that really was you the other day." Pain and anger warred within her again, and once more anger seemed to be winning. "Guess you didn't think I needed to know _that_, I mean why should I get to know that the only man I've ever loved is living _right here_, but that would mean you'd have to deal with me again -"

Oh God, he was really out of practice with Rachel in crazy mode. "It's me I can't deal with, okay?" he interrupted, motioning to try to calm her down.

"You seem to be dealing with yourself just fine, I spotted you two blocks away and you looked like you hadn't a care in the world."

Finn sighed. "Okay,_ that _is an act. It almost always was, really."

And at that moment Finn's phone rang, the latin rhythm he'd picked for Santana. They were having plumbing problems, he had to answer it. "Just... wait a few seconds? Please." Finn answered the call, trying to deal with it quickly. "Yeah? Look, it's the worst time ever... what, the manager can't let him in to our place? Okay, I'll be back by then. Gotta go, bye." Finn tried to look apologetic as he hung up, but Rachel's glare only gave back hurt and fury.

"Roommate," she said coldly.

"Yeah."

"Female roommate." Her voice got even colder.

"Uh, yeah," Finn admitted.

"You've moved in with a girl. Not me though, I'm good for a pedestal or the stage but not to live with or be with, though some other girl is. _Already._" Rachel's frown deepened.

Finn frowned. "Just roommates, Rachel, it's not like that."

"What, can you swear to me you'd never sleep with this - this roommate of yours?"

"Well not again -" Finn winced as he saw the pain in Rachel's face in the brief moment before she spun around away from him, leaving the doorway and starting to storm off down the street in tears. _Crappy joke, especially since she's so hurt already. _He followed her for a few strides and caught her arm. "It's not like that, I swear. Just - it's Santana, okay?"

Rachel turned back, slowly. "Santana Lopez."

"Yes."

"You moved to New York with Santana Lopez."

"Yes. She was planning to move here and talked me into coming with her." He gave Rachel what he thought was an encouraging smile.

"So I want you to come here with me and you break my heart, you absolutely destroy it, but you'll come when Santana asks you to." The ice in Rachel's voice couldn't disguise the hurt.

"Rach, look - let's go sit down," he said, spotting a bench and steering her to it. She came with him, walking numbly. "She talked me into it, okay? A bunch of them gave me this whole multi-step intervention about how I was giving up on my future, and she gave me a solution."

"So Santana, and these people, can talk you into coming to New York but I can't?" Rachel's tears flowed freely.

"I didn't let you," Finn said softly, rubbing her back. "I was so afraid of screwing up your life that I couldn't let myself listen, I was too scared that if you started planning things that you'd talk yourself out of everything, NYADA, Broadway, your dream. And I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason those things didn't happen for you. I never..." he choked up a bit. "I didn't think enough about how you'd feel, that you'd feel the same sort of guilt if things went badly for me. I'm sorry, so sorry."

"We could have found a solution. Something that could have worked for both of us."

Finn wasn't so sure about that, but he hadn't really tried. "I know I should have talked to you about it. Just - the pressure got to me. And I don't want to be riding your coattails either, I need to feel like I'm making something of myself." He sighed. "And after what I pulled, I felt I needed to do some of that, establish what I was doing, before I talked to you about it. I've flipped on you so much, every time things go bad I get so down on myself, thinking that there's no way I could ever deserve you. And I know I let you down. We agreed before we looked at the letters that we were still going to New York no matter what, but once it happened I didn't stick to it. I thought I was just going to be a failure and I didn't want to face it, so I bailed on you." He sniffled a little himself. "More than anything else I guess that's really why I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that," Rachel said, almost as a reflex. She blinked back tears. "Well you should say it if you really feel that way, I just wish you didn't, that you weren't so sure I _shouldn't_ love you that you'd try to make it so I _couldn't_!" Her face was full of pain again, but some of it seemed to be pain for him.

"I -" Had he been doing that? _Maybe. Damn._

"Did I miss it?" she asked, her voice getting softer. "How did I not notice how much trouble you were in? I know you were worried sometimes that I was regretting our engagement, but I wasn't, not at all."

Finn sighed, his hand now still on her back. "I didn't let it show, not much," he said apologetically. "I knew what you wanted to hear and I said it, and it wasn't that hard since I really did mean it, at least that was what I wanted to do. I wanted to be that guy who could, to be that confident that it was going to go well, I just wasn't, not inside." And he hadn't always been putting on a front either, the confidence he'd had at Nationals, so sure they'd win, bringing the crowd to its feet - he'd really felt it. He'd just been so sure that it meant he was on a roll, that everything was turning around right there, that he hadn't been able to push past the disappointment that followed when he'd gotten the letter from Pace. Or shake the feeling that he'd let his dad down, whatever his mom might say about what his dad might want for him. "And some of it was real, Nationals, I felt that..." he tried to explain. She'd told him his confidence was sexy, and he'd loved that, really eaten it up and let it all loose on stage. But later when he found his confidence gone he hadn't wanted to show her that. "I wanted to marry you, really I did, I wanted to be that guy." He swallowed, his voice thick. "I still do, really. I wanted - want - to have that future, I just couldn't see how."

"It never had to be all or nothing, Finn. Never."

"I know, that was me, I was just so scared of losing you and then scared I'd wrecked you. Guess I'd only just gotten started on the last part." He exhaled. "I really am so very sorry for how I chose to tell you. I thought it'd be easier if it was quick, I guess, I didn't think about the shock."

Rachel was overcome and turned her head away, looking at the ground. "And now you're trying to find yourself," she said haltingly.

"Yeah. Trying to see what I can make of myself. It's tough, but I'm sticking with it so far. I really want to try this time, I know I gave up too soon before."

"Here?" Her one-word question was quiet, almost inaudible.

"Where else would I want to find myself than where you are?"

Rachel froze, giving a small involuntary whimper.

"Rach?"

She raised her head to look at him, her face emotional but unreadable.

"How do you do it, Finn?" she managed to choke out. "Sometimes you manage to come out with something, that's just so..." she trailed off.

"Stupid?" Finn tried to finish for her.

"Beautiful," she said softly, then sniffled back tears.

"Yeah?" The corner of his mouth turned up. She met his eyes and nodded, both of them gazing at each other.

"Don't lose that," she said eventually. "No matter how hard you find things, please don't lose that." She closed her eyes momentarily, clearly bringing herself back under control. "I guess we both have to go," she went on, rising. "I have rehearsal, I can't miss it, this was just supposed to be a quick trip to Midtown." Finn stood too, and looked dumbly down at her. "Obviously you know where to find me," Rachel stated. "And whatever you truly need to do, for yourself, I - I suppose I can support that. Just -" she broke off and looked into his face again.

"Yes?" Finn asked quietly, his voice choked.

"Please don't walk away. No matter what you think you've done or who you think you are - if you hurt yourself then you hurt me too. I love you." Her voice was still full of the pain she felt, but he knew she meant it, and with that she turned and left. He watched her go; when she reached the other end of the block she reached for her phone, and he'd bet that Kurt was about to get a call. Hopefully she wouldn't blame him for not telling her.

* * *

"You're late!" Santana called out to him as he entered the apartment, and she came towards him from her room, then stopped dead when she saw his stricken face. "Wow, you weren't kidding about it being the worst time ever. So she found you, huh?"

"Yeah," Finn muttered.

"I'm actually kind of surprised it didn't happen sooner, even in a city this big, it's been months." Santana sighed. "Look, I do really have to go, they need me at work, I can listen to your big agony late tonight I suppose, or tomorrow. But hey, at least this means _I _can talk to her now." She looked intently at him. "You did tell her I was here too?"

"Uh-huh. She wasn't happy about it, though."

"Really? 'Cause your chica and I were finally getting along, I thought."

"She didn't like that I came here with you when I wouldn't with her."

"Ah, okay, so her problem is with _you_. That, I can handle." But she smiled kindly at him. "Hey, look on the bright side, I can ease some of the tension." The smile turned into a smirk. "Or get her drunk and laid, ease that kind of tension instead." Finn glared at her, and she thwacked him on the shoulder as she went by to get to the door. "Kidding. Mostly. I gotta go. Stay out of trouble, and for God's sake get that leak fixed so we can do dishes properly again."

* * *

The plumber finally came about half an hour after Santana left, and fixed the leaky pipe below the sink. Luckily maintenance was covered in their rent, so all it cost them was their time in waiting around for the guy.

Finn then found himself something to eat, and turned his chance meeting with Rachel over in his mind again. She'd spotted him and followed him, she'd said. And while she'd been very upset with him, she had said she loved him, a few times, probably more than he deserved, but... okay he had to stop thinking like that, that just made him feel bad for how he'd acted when he'd felt bad and that was never going to end if he couldn't put it aside somehow. He'd even managed to explain himself a bit, and he thought he hadn't screwed that up too much, aside from the foot-in-mouth moments he'd done a half decent job of apologizing and giving her some idea of what had really been going on with him.

And she hadn't told him to go to hell, even though she'd shoved him hard enough to send him halfway there. But she'd eventually let him comfort her a bit, she'd even been concerned for him, and the last thing she'd said was "I love you."

So not a total disaster.

And yeah, she'd been right about how he'd jerked her around, he'd been all over the map about what to do with himself (and by extension with her) since he'd found out about his dad, so of course she was confused. But he'd admitted it, and told her he loved her, and she seemed to accept it. Maybe. Too soon to tell.

Finn sighed and decided to put it out of his head for now, taking refuge in drumming, working on some of the new songs for the band. He'd been having a hard time with all the love songs and had pushed for some alternatives, rationalizing that even their audience wouldn't necessarily want that all the time. He couldn't be the only one with a screwed-up love life, after all. And now that Daryl had said they should add some Journey, he'd had to pick carefully to get something that didn't give him serious flashbacks. So "Be Good to Yourself" was the one he'd suggested, they were giving it a try at the next practice, and he wanted to be really on for it.

He played for a few hours with only small breaks to hydrate, seeking exhaustion that eventually came.

* * *

Finn talked to Santana the next morning, explaining how he'd run into Rachel when he'd been putting up posters, and giving a reasonable but surface description of how things had gone. Santana frowned, but caught herself doing it, and shrugged.

"Not a complete trainwreck, then," she said. "She might just have needed to vent, it's mean to upset someone that much and then take off without letting them respond. I've done it deliberately a few times so I should know."

Finn winced. "Please don't say _train_." Santana gave him a moue.

"Sounds like there was some actual talking though, which under the circumstances is pretty good. So what's her new number? I should get together with her now, we can catch up."

"Uh..."

"You _did _get her new number, didn't you? Or at least give her yours?"

"No. She said I knew where to find her."

Santana groaned, but saw the look on Finn's face, and didn't push that line any further. "So how has she been doing? You did ask that at least?"

Finn sighed. "You mean 'aside from your fiance using your heart for a pinata, how have you been?' No, I said a few really dumb things but I managed to stop short of that one."

Santana grimaced. "Okay, 'Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play,' perhaps not the best approach. And there's no point in asking you how she looked. Hmm. Points for the pinata reference, though, guess I'm rubbing off."

"Like catching a disease, San." Finn eased a little, taking refuge in their familiar interplay.

She smiled. "Good." She looked intently at him. "You do know that 'you know where to find me' means she expects you to do it, right?"

"Yeah. And soon, I know." He'd better have figured out something more coherent to say first, however. And at least showing up without warning should be expected this time, since it was the only option he had.

* * *

_Please review!_


	7. Baby Steps

Rachel had been stunned when she'd seen him, just walking along the street like any other New Yorker. For a moment she couldn't believe it was really him, like she'd thought she'd seen him the previous week just outside NYADA, but - she knew his walk, the set of his shoulders and his head even with slightly shorter hair, and then he'd turned briefly and she had caught a look at his profile. Finn. Here, somehow. So she had followed him and waited as he'd been doing something in the cafe, putting up some sort of poster, which certainly made it look like he was involved with something local, this wasn't a visit, he was living here and he hadn't even gotten in touch with her. She hadn't known what she was going to say, so she had waited for him to speak first, and if he was so damned bad with things being sprung on him maybe he should know better than to do it himself, unless he'd really wanted to hurt her...

And everything had just come pouring out of her, all the frustration and hurt, the anger at what he'd done to her, the pain at losing him and the fear that their connection had never been as real, as profound, as she'd thought it had been. Or that it was, and he was denying it, and she'd never have that again.

But then he had said he was sorry, explaining that it had to do with himself, not how he felt about her, and she wanted to believe him. So much. And he was here, in New York, where she'd wished he would be. They'd talked, a little, and then she remembered she was still in the middle of her day.

It was hard to walk away from Finn, especially with her emotions so upheaved again, but Rachel knew she couldn't risk being late to dance rehearsal, the instructor had been quite clear that any featured role would be reassigned if necessary and not given back. And she really didn't know what to say to Finn now, he seemed to be having the same problem, so... if he needed space he could have it. She didn't want to push him, pushing things faster was probably what had made things go wrong. And she had some hope.

He had said he loved her. He had said he still wanted to marry her, he just didn't feel that he could.

She still didn't know what to believe, but... he had always said he loved her, that had never changed, even if what he'd done didn't always reflect it. She could cling to that, get through the day, at least manage to get herself back to rehearsal and then lose herself in those barely feasible movements that were being required of her.

But she was going to have to talk about this when she could, and she supposed she should give some warning about that. She pulled her phone out and called Kurt. He'd be at work in his father's local congressional office, and he must be busy since it went to voicemail after the usual four rings. She left a message.

"Kurt... I hope you have some time tonight to talk. I - I just ran into Finn. I understand that you couldn't tell me, I know you're caught in the middle... I just really need to talk, please."

Well her brain understood. Her heart didn't, not quite, but she'd told Kurt she knew he couldn't tell her everything about what was happening with Finn, and ultimately she'd rather be not told than be lied to.

* * *

Rachel hurried back to NYADA, changed into her leotard, and nipped into the dance studio just at the start of the warmup. She mouthed a quick "sorry" across the room to Sean, her friend and partner for this number, seeing his expression of relief.

Then places were called, and she poured herself into the extremely demanding dance routine.

"That was cutting it really close," Sean commented as he came up to her after class, running his fingers briefly through his short red hair to get it back into place. "Olivia was hoping you wouldn't make it, I think, but I'm very glad you did."

Rachel frowned a little. "I'm sorry, Sean," she responded. "I wouldn't have taken that long, I was just out, and I... I ran into someone." Her face was downcast, pained.

"Someone? That's vague. Or... you mean _that someone_? _Your _someone?" Rachel nodded slowly in reply; she'd mentioned Finn a little to Sean, privately, when he'd been talking about his own long-distance relationship with his girlfriend upstate. She hadn't had a relationship any more, and apparently now didn't have distance either, but they had some similar difficulties when it came to having a local social life. His brown eyes widened. "Wow. Forget what I said, I'm really glad you remembered to come back in time. Or at all."

"Me too. I almost didn't."

"I thought you didn't know where he was."

"I didn't."

"Ouch. I'd ask if you were okay but obviously you're not."

Rachel shook her head. "At least rehearsal was hard, it didn't leave me with any room to think. But now..." she sighed. "He said he's in New York because of me. But he wasn't looking for me, though he has looked _at _me, I thought I saw someone like him last week and now it seems I was right. And it still hurts, so much, I can't help but feel that what I thought we had wasn't really there and I don't know what I can ever have." She pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to unload this all on you."

"That's okay. Gives me insight into what not to do if I don't want to wreck things with Em."

She smiled a little, remembering Kurt's similar words. "Thanks."

Rachel called Kurt that night. She tried to talk through her feelings, but she was still extremely torn and confused, so mostly she vented and then sobbed her heart out again. But Kurt's comforting voice and support helped her pull herself together enough to keep herself going.

* * *

Next Tuesday Rachel was on her way to her usual cafe at break time when she saw Finn again, standing outside on the street, two tall paper cups in his hands. His face lit up as she approached, and he held out one of the cups to her, glancing briefly at its markings.

"Soy cappuccino with cinnamon," he said. "I hope you still like it. I thought maybe we could talk some more, if you have the time. Since you don't have to line up."

Rachel took a deep breath, and gave him a hesitant smile, taking the cup he held out. "Okay."

They walked along slowly together in silence until they found an empty bench, and then sat down, side by side, not touching. Rachel sipped at her coffee, staring straight ahead, though in her peripheral vision she saw Finn briefly look at her and then look away. Then she felt the bench shift as he turned to her.

"You were right, what you said last week," Finn said. "I was really inconsistent with what I asked of you, since January even. I just need you to know it wasn't about you or how I felt about you. How I still feel about you. It was about me, how I felt about myself, whether I really believed in myself. When everything's going great I do, but when it's not I find it really tough to believe that anything's going to get better. And you're, like, the last person I wanted to admit that to, I like you being all impressed by my confidence and whatever."

She'd been such an idiot, thinking he could really let her in, let her truly love him. She'd thought he had. "So you wanted to fool me."

"What? No, that's not what I meant. I just - I didn't want you to think I wasn't going anywhere, at least not when I thought maybe I could change that. And the way you would look at me, like I'd hung the moon or something, that always felt really awesome, at least when I didn't feel like a total fake who couldn't do a thing."

_Finn, Finn... why do you judge yourself so harshly?_ Rachel closed her eyes, pained. _You come so alive when you're comfortable with yourself, it hurts to see you deny yourself that. And your leadership, your accomplishments, all you've been able to do when you started with no training, no advantages other than yourself... _She looked over at him but she said nothing, not knowing how she could put any of this in a way that wouldn't drive him away again or let her give into the pain she felt at seeing the man she loved not only hurting but also turning away from her, not letting her try to help him. And here he was telling her that her belief in him was effectively what had pushed him away from her... she felt she couldn't win. He'd left her because he loved her, and he couldn't tell her properly because she loved him. How could they ever make anything work if that was what they had to build it from?

But Finn was looking at her, and she supposed she should say something, even just to ensure that he didn't think she agreed with his assessment of himself. Rachel marshalled her feelings and tried to find a few simple words. "You've always been able to do something, Finn. Always. And that's not what I think, it's what I know." She raised her face to meet his, trying to convey the truth of her words in her eyes. "You've proved it to others over and over again." But she couldn't look at him the way he'd described, not right now. She still believed in him, but she couldn't give him that wide-eyed trust when she didn't feel it.

"I guess I need to prove it to myself." He frowned. "So, uh... is there anything you want to know? About what I've been up to, or something like that?"

"I - I don't really want to ask anything," Rachel said reluctantly. She certainly had many unanswered questions, she wanted to know everything, but whenever she started to form one her mind flinched away from it. She didn't want to ask anything specific, too afraid he'd see it as a demand on him, too afraid that he'd feel he had to answer with something and just tell her what he thought she wanted to hear or what he thought might calm her down, instead of the truth. And with him admitting he had a hard time feeling that he lived up to how she saw him, almost anything she could ask just sounded like it could be seen as another expectation.

"Huh." Finn frowned. "Well maybe I could just tell you what I've been doing, if you don't feel comfortable asking. Okay?"

Rachel looked over at him, and nodded. She kept her eyes on him as he continued.

"So... here goes." Finn pursed his lips. "I've been in New York since, uh, mid-July." Rachel's eyes widened at hearing that he'd been there for so long, but she managed to stay silent. "Santana was already planning to come, to see what she could make happen for herself, and she wanted a roommate, someone to kind of keep her sane while she's trying to break into things, so she convinced me to give it a try as well." He exhaled. "It's been really hard, but she was right, the fact that we're both doing the same things pushes us. And even before she talked to me the others had basically convinced me that I'd handled things badly, given up on myself and on us, and I heard how much I hurt you." He lowered his eyes to the ground, his hands clenched. "I shouldn't have. You're right that I was sabotaging myself because I didn't think I could be worthy of you, that I'd just get in your way, and I shouldn't have. And I know that right now you're probably thinking that I shouldn't think about all that 'worthy' stuff, but I do." He raised his head to look at her. "I'm still one hundred percent sure that you're going to be a star." He sighed. "And me - well, I bus tables at a diner, and I'm doing some drumming, I have a weekly gig with a small-time cover band. It's not much, and I haven't been doing it long, but I enjoy the band and I'm working on more." He looked over at Rachel, who was starting to smile a little; he nodded at her. "I guess that's it."

"So that poster, that was for your band?" Rachel smiled encouragingly, liking that he'd managed to find something like that, and make it happen for himself.

"We're one of them on that poster. One of the openers, the gig was last Friday. And it was a good party, even early on when we played people were already having fun."

"And you're enjoying it?"

"Yes."

"That's wonderful, Finn. Truly." And Rachel started to relax a bit, smiling at him, definitely meaning it.

Finn smiled sheepishly. "It's just a small-time cover band playing mostly eighties songs. Just nostalgia, really, and it's not trying to be anything more."

"Finn... you're nineteen. The fact that you even have a start like that already is amazing."

"Well it was good luck mostly, they needed someone right away when they heard of me, and it's material I know. And I got a whole pile of rejections before that."

"Persistence paid off. And being in the right place at the right time takes work too, and you have to make the most of the luck you get." She nodded at him, still smiling. "It sounds like you did, and you are." She paused, hesitating. "I'm proud of you." _I hope that's all right, that I'm allowed to be._

"I have Santana to thank for a lot of that. She doesn't let herself or anyone around her give up, I'd probably have had an easier time with the army drill sergeant."

Rachel bit her lip, and lowered her eyes. "Did you really want to do that, go into the army?" she asked haltingly. "I know your note said I shouldn't worry about that, but you have to know I'd never want to stand in the way of something that you really wanted to do." She swallowed. "Just when you told me, I was already in shock, and when you said something about it being somewhere I couldn't follow..." A few tears flowed down her cheeks as she remembered her despair at feeling that Finn was throwing his life away and it was somehow her fault, because he needed to get away from her. She wiped her eyes.

Finn caught her hand in his, though she flinched a little at the contact. "I shouldn't have said that. And I shouldn't have thought like that, I should never have put a decision like that on you. But yeah, that was part of it, at least why I was rushing into it."

"And now?" Rachel asked him in a small voice. She'd seen enough of the war movies that Finn liked to watch sometimes that she knew the army's approach, tear down the new recruits to rebuild them into what the army needed; the thought of Finn losing himself in that was painful. She'd hated watching those parts of the movies, more than the explosions really. The individuality that made Finn so wonderful, that had made him someone who went against the "natural order" at McKinley and flourished when he had, that wouldn't be what the army wanted from a private.

"Now I think that if I'd really wanted to enlist I should have been able to explain it to you," Finn admitted. "The rest, about my dad - I don't know. Mom said he wouldn't have wanted me to do it for him."

"It's your life, you need to live it for you."

"Not for you?" Finn gave a small grimace, as if he wished he hadn't said that.

Rachel worried at her lower lip again. "Only in exchange. Never as a gift." She sighed. "Maybe it's been easier for me to see that, whatever my dads have turned into as parents they've always had a very equitable relationship with each other. Although clearly their plans for me didn't include that."

"You're still mad at them?"

"I'm still furious with them. And so, so disappointed." She swallowed. "They raised me on a foundation of honesty, and when they found I was doing something that wasn't what they wanted for me they broke all of that." She shook her head as she blinked back tears. She couldn't think about her dads right now and what they'd done to her and Finn, and she certainly didn't want to tell Finn that all of his self-doubts had found a match in their thoughts, that Finn would be an obstacle for her. "I'd rather not talk about them right now."

"So..." Finn exhaled. "How's NYADA?"

"Hard. Challenging." She shrugged. "It's going well, I think."

"Bet you're doing great." Finn smiled. But he could see Rachel's face fall at this. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"It would have been the same next year too. Please don't use whatever success I have to justify your absence."

"I wasn't, at least I don't think I was. I just like to see you doing well, I always do. And I guess I'm glad that you can, in spite of what I did. I hate that I hurt you."

Rachel nodded. "Okay then." She exhaled. "I'm managing to do well, it's very challenging work but that means I can lose myself in it, I don't think as much. So it helps." She glanced over at him. "But I hate the dorms."

Finn grimaced. "Kurt said that right away."

"I didn't want them right away. Now that I live in one I legitimately do hate it, there's no space, no privacy, and no kitchen. I can't bake, Finn." She shuddered. "It's awful."

"Ouch. If you're not baking there's something seriously wrong."

"In this case the something seriously wrong is not being able to bake. Though some of my classmates like me anyway, even without the baked goods, and those that are trying to get my solos would be unlikely to be swayed by banana bread."

Finn smiled. "Now you're making me hungry."

She smiled back, glad that they were easing. "That's not hard. And don't get your hopes up, no kitchen equals no banana bread."

"That sucks."

"It does." She finished her coffee, then looked at Finn. "I need to get back," she said.

"Okay." Finn finished his, as well. "Same time next week? I can't come into this part of town that much."

It was a hand extended, and hope. Rachel rose and nodded. "Yes, I look forward to it. Thank you for the coffee, and the talk." She turned and slowly walked away.

"I love you," she heard him call out to her. She smiled, and gave him a quick look back before going on to her next class.

* * *

_Please review!_


	8. Measured Out in Coffee Breaks

_Chapter title is from "We Hold On" by Rush, lyrics by Neil Peart. (Yes, another Rush song from me, but I swear it's really appropriate!) This line itself references "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", by T.S. Eliot._

* * *

Monday night Rachel went with Sean to a salsa class at a club close to NYU. He'd talked her into coming along with him, telling her that after all the hard choreography they were doing in class they needed to simply enjoy dancing again, and he'd been hearing no end of how great salsa dancing was from his girlfriend Emily. Rachel also realized that Sean wanted to learn because Emily enjoyed it so much, this was a way he could keep connected to her even though they were apart and he'd be able to dance with her when they could be together again. He'd become a good friend so she wanted to help him out, and it did sound like fun. She could definitely use some clean independent fun.

The steps were introductory, very simple compared to what they were used to, but they enjoyed the different feel of the dance style and its greater room for improvisation. The class was the first of four, and they planned to come back the following week at least. Sean, especially, wanted to work on some moves to surprise Emily with the next time her could visit her.

After the class there was a live band, and they decided to stick around for a while to dance to it. Rachel was stunned, however, when the first number's vocals started and the sultry female voice was one she knew. She turned and stared, getting a friendly smile and wave from Santana.

At the band's break Rachel heard her name called, and turned to find Santana envelop her in a hug. "It's _so _good to see you," Santana enthused. Rachel was taken a bit aback, even though they'd become friends finally she hadn't been expecting quite this sort of reaction. "You don't know how hard it's been to sit back and not look you up. And when Finn said he hadn't even gotten your new number I swear I considered clocking him."

Rachel eased, and hugged Santana back. "It's good to see you too."

"Mind you, if all the people who considered clocking Finn actually did, he'd have been hospitalized for sure." Santana took her hands. "Glad to see you're out having a good time. What do you think of the band?"

"It's good." She gripped Santana's hand and beamed at her. "Look at you, singing in New York. You sound great." Santana preened in response, deliberately over the top.

"You'll stick around, right? We play until after eleven, then we can go catch up. Finnocence has been mooning around far too much to tell me anything about how you're doing. Good thing we talked him out of enlisting, if he did that in the army he'd wash out of basic in just a few weeks."

"Is he okay?" Rachel asked, not liking this description.

Santana shrugged. "He knows he fucked up, and he knows he needs to get himself together. He's working on it. And truthfully I thought he'd've given up and gone back to Lima about two months ago, so..." she raised her eyebrows and gave a tight smile. "He may actually be learning how to believe in himself, and Lord knows he's no good to you until he does. Though your friend there is cute, for a guy."

"Key word is 'friend'. We're both otherwise attached, one way or another, we just wanted to have a night out. We dance together all the time at school so there's really nothing in it."

"Well I have to go get a drink of water, talk to you later. Enjoy the show."

* * *

Rachel stayed until the band was done, reassuring Sean that she'd be fine on the subway on her own; it wasn't that late, by New York City standards. Then she and Santana went to a cafe to talk.

Straight away Santana insisted that they exchange phone numbers. "I won't pass it on, I promise," she told Rachel, "but there's only so much reticence I can take if I'm expected to do it too." Rachel smiled and exchanged phones so each of them could enter their own number, laughing a little when she got hers back and saw the "Habanera Senorita" nickname Santana had put in for herself.

Santana then gave her a more detailed account of how she'd talked Finn into coming to New York with her. "And truthfully it's been good for me," she admitted. "Not just because that way I have someone to pick on, though that doesn't hurt, but he's been really good about helping out with some of the stuff I've been practicing, audition scenes and whatever, and I do better when I can push someone else to keep up, it keeps me going too. Though," she said, rolling her eyes, "I hadn't realized his band was going to be at our place at least twice a week!"

"They rehearse there?" Rachel asked.

"It's hard enough to move the drums once a week for the gig, if he had to take them to rehearsal as well he'd never get anything else done. And they're pretty good about going for times when I'm out, if they can. They're working on some stuff tonight."

"It's going well for him?"

Santana shrugged. "This band's ultimately a dead end, though they're doing better than they did before, from what the others say. It's a cover band, there's only so far they can go. He's getting some instruction, though, some that he can afford, and it's a start." She smiled at Rachel. "He enjoys it. And they actually don't suck, though please don't tell him I said that."

"I'm so glad. And thank you for not letting him give up, he told me that much."

"So did you really ream him out when he told you he didn't handle surprises well?"

Rachel reddened. "Yes."

"Good for you. Because he doesn't, but that sure didn't stop him from dropping the mother of all bombs on you." Santana shook her head. "A little self-awareness wouldn't be asking too much."

Rachel smiled tightly, agreeing, but had also noticed something about Santana. "You're sounding a lot more Latina," she commented. "It sounds nice. Your singing voice, too, you've still got that huskiness but it's smoother sometimes as well."

"Why thank you." Santana inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment. "Practice, I think, and what the part requires. And between the salsa band and the tapas bar, I'm surrounded by a lot of Spanish these days. It brings it out." She surveyed Rachel. "You're thinner, right? Mostly the good kind but not entirely."

Rachel gave a slight grimace. "Dance classes are incredibly challenging, and I'm sure my flexibility has massively improved. But other things have been hard as well," she admitted. "I miss him. I miss all of you, really, it's been so hard being on my own and I hate living in a dorm, it's even hard to get enough to eat at the right times some days, but mostly I miss him. The him I used to think I had."

"Oh, you have him. You'd better, I'm quite sure the rule for freakishly tall and clumsy drummers is 'no exchanges or returns'. I'm certainly not planning on being stuck with him long-term. And he still thinks the sun shines out of your ass."

"That's not always a good thing."

Santana laughed in agreement, and they continued talking for a while about other things.

* * *

Finn was waiting again with coffee the next day when Rachel had her break, and she gave him a smile as she took it. Talking with Santana had certainly made her a lot more comfortable about how things were, and that Finn was starting to deal with the issues that had led to the disaster at the train station, feeling like he could make something of himself. She'd always known he could, but he had to know it too. And she had to admit she'd contributed her share of starry-eyed denial to the mess.

Not close to being let off the hook, though, were her dads; they had neither the "young and naive" excuse that Finn and Rachel both had, nor any sense of having sacrificed anything themselves, at least not intentionally. Rachel felt that they hadn't cared what happened to Finn at all, as long as he got out of Rachel's way; while this was probably more extreme than the truth, enough had been unraveled so that she knew they'd wanted her to be selfish and break Finn's heart, and they'd pushed things faster in the expectation that she would. The very idea still horrified her.

She communicated with them mostly by text. As she and Finn eased into some small talk about the weather (sunny but crisp, they both thought it felt good), her phone chimed and she found she had a message from them saying that they hadn't heard from her in a while (about ten days, she thought) and were concerned.

"It's my dads," she said apologetically. "I'll just be a minute." She hammered out a quick reply, frowning, just saying that everything at NYADA was fine and she was well.

"So you're not really talking to them?"

"No. We text, talk a little sometimes, but that's it. It's too hard, after." _After what happened. After what they did. _"I can't really listen to them and believe them, now."

"You're talking to me."

"It's not the same situation at all."

"But we all did the same thing, we made decisions for you behind your back. And lied to you," Finn said reluctantly, probably not wanting to remind her.

"You let me go when I didn't want to be let go. They wouldn't let me go when I did. It's completely the opposite." She shook her head, her hair stirring with the movement. "And however ill-conceived your plan was, you were at least entitled to choose your own actions in those last few days, you weren't manipulating someone else's for _months_. They encouraged me, both of us, to do something, all while hoping it would go wrong, even intending that this would_ help it go wrong_." _And it did._

Finn nodded in silence, acknowledging that. "So do you think you'll forgive them?" he asked.

Rachel sighed. "I don't know. Eventually, I suppose I must, I mean I don't want to lose them forever even if it feels like I already did. Maybe when I can tell that they understand that my future is mine, not theirs. And they did one thing right, they brought in Kurt."

"You're not mad at Kurt for not telling you I was here, I hope?"

"Mad at the person who's probably the only reason I was able to pull myself back together and go on and do something?" She stared off. "Never."

"Do - do you think you'll be able to forgive _me_?" Finn's voice was very quiet. Rachel lowered her head to look at the ground, tears in her eyes.

"I already have forgiven what you did," she said softly. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, and you were thinking you were being noble and self-sacrificing, loving me by giving me up, but..." she sniffled, tears coming again as she thought about it.

Finn's arm went loosely around her shoulders, his hand on her far arm. "But what, Rach?" He bent his head to her.

"I just can't seem to get past the 'why'," she got out, starting to cry in earnest. "That I love you, I loved you but you wouldn't let me, that you didn't understand how much more this would have meant for me, for us to be able to do this together even if it was later... I thought I was _part _of something special, you and me, but you had my heart in your hands and you just dropped it like you didn't know it was there..." her words faded into sobs, but she did turn to him, burying her face into his chest as she cried. She felt his hand stroke her back, trying to comfort her.

"I didn't mean to," he whispered in her ear, and he was choked up too.

"I know, but you did it anyway, and..." she cried a bit more, trying to fight it so she could finish what she needed to say. "How can I know you won't do it again?" And that really was the problem, the failure of understanding that had given rise to this, that Finn had broken her heart while meaning so well, it called everything into question. Nobody could promise to notice or to understand, they could only promise to try.

"I don't know," she heard him say. "I'm trying. It's been hard to let you in like that, I guess, when I'm scared if you really see me you won't be that impressed by what you see."

Rachel leaned back to look up at him, her face tearstained. "I may see you better than you do. You've always told me to listen to you instead of to myself when I'm insecure, haven't you? The mirror always lies."

"Yeah," Finn breathed.

"And it feels like you rejected the greatest thing I have to give, insisting that you love me but not accepting that I love you. Telling me that my heart, the most profound part of me, my heart is - is _wrong_. And that hurts so, so much. Especially when I see you hurting yourself with self-doubt and not letting me help the one person I want to help more than anything." She sniffled, crying again. "We were supposed to have this bond, and I thought we did, and then it turns out you had all these problems and self-doubts and you didn't let me know. I need to love you, and it's like you won't let me, and that just tears me up."

Finn frowned. "I guess I never did think much about you needing to help me," he said. "That's not fair, I know, it should work both ways and I didn't let it. I've certainly always wanted to support you, help make your dream come true, and I could only see myself getting in the way. I always have wanted your dream to come true, that's even mostly why I came back for Sectionals, that first time."

"That - that was for me?" He'd never told her that before.

"Yeah. You came back before when I needed you, and - sure everyone else was there too, but I knew how important it was to you specifically. And even when we weren't together, junior year, I was hurt but I always believed in you and wanted to help you get your dream. And I still do, sure I went about it all wrong but I still wouldn't want you to put off your dream just because I wasn't ready, and I knew I'd jumped the gun and rushed everything when I proposed. I couldn't take it." He swallowed. "I just didn't know how to talk to you about it," he said softly.

"It's an old dream, Finn, from when I was a little girl with no friends, no hope of love. When we first met, that dream was all I had. But dreams change."

"I know. But I know it's still there, you probably told yourself a lot of stuff when you thought you weren't getting in but I know how devastated you were after your audition. This dream still matters to you."

Rachel nodded. "It does. But not as much as you do," she insisted. "My heart is more important than my dream, it's necessary for everything. I can't dream without my heart."

Finn wiped his eyes, and took her hand, looking down at it. "I really did think that you loving me was the most amazing thing," he said. "I still do. I didn't... I didn't mean to throw it back at you, I didn't, I swear. I don't know what I was thinking about that, and I know what I did was so wrong, but I know I didn't mean that."

Rachel nodded dumbly and leaned into him, their hands still linked, and they sat there quietly until Rachel had to return to class.

* * *

The next week they left the past aside and started talking about now, each telling a few simple stories of things they'd done and people they knew. Nothing major, just enjoying being together and talking. The problems had been acknowledged, and now they needed to see if they could rebuild their torn connection.

So they talked, and Rachel even laughed a little at some of the stories that Finn told about his bandmates, laughing more earnestly at his tale of one of his cooking disasters, complete with imitation of a highly outraged Santana. Finn unintentionally horribly mangled the Spanish that Santana had thrown into her rant, which made it all the more funny. She, in turn, told him about some of her classes and the foibles of the instructors. But she largely left out how she was doing at NYADA, or much about the actual performance parts, not wanting to have those aspects of her obscure whatever they were building. She desperately needed to make sure Finn was seeing her as a person to be loved, not a star in the making to be admired.

This continued the week after as well, as November wore on, and their old ease with each other started to return.

* * *

_Please review!_


	9. Dancing

On the Sunday before the fourth and final salsa class Rachel got a text from Santana: _Heads up: our drummer's sick so guess who's filling in tomorrow._

Finn. Well she always liked watching Finn drum, and it was good that he was getting more work. Connections, of course, but a lot of things started out with connections. Hopefully her being there didn't throw him off.

She wondered if Finn had received a similar "heads up" that she would be there; she hadn't mentioned the salsa class to him, or even that she'd seen Santana.

* * *

Anticipating Finn's arrival with the band, Rachel was a little on edge for the salsa class itself, but she'd become very used to working with Sean so she did her best to put everything else out of her head and just focus on the movements and rhythm. The advanced moves weren't that hard, though, not compared to what they'd become used to doing at NYADA, so she had plenty of attention to spare for the tall form that she now saw bending over the drum kit. It wasn't Finn's drums but instead the same ones from before, she realized, and he had to check them over and adjust them a little for his size.

She lost sight of him as they executed a spin, Sean leading it double-speed, and for the next while she was facing away. Then Sean turned her back and into an improvised dip, and she saw Finn staring at her. Obviously Santana hadn't warned _him_, for whatever reason. His expression was intense but otherwise unreadable, and by the time they'd turned enough so she could look at him properly he had gone offstage.

He was back soon, however, as part of the band, but though his eyes barely left her and she smiled at him, his look could best be described as a heated stare. She tried to express herself better, still getting into the dancing despite it all, and especially enjoying syncing to the beat he played. They could at least communicate on that level, the rest of the band fading out for her as she concentrated on moving with the drum pattern. It was actually kind of hot as she thought about it, especially since it had been so long since they'd moved together at all. While she'd been so upset, and she still felt hurt and lost from his unintentional rejection, she'd also missed being with him.

"Who is that staring?" Sean whispered in her ear.

"That's _him_," she whispered back.

"_Oh._" Sean paused. "I think he's trying to kill me with his mind," he stated dryly. Rachel chuckled at that, seeing at least a little humour in that uncomfortable situation.

At break Finn put his attention on the drums, making some adjustments, and Rachel gave him space; by the time she turned back to see how he was he had left, probably needing to hydrate, she thought. Well, she'd see him tomorrow, and Santana did know about Sean, if he was concerned. Shortly after the break she was tired, so with a big day at school ahead tomorrow they decided to go.

* * *

Finn wasn't pleased at all that Santana hadn't told him Rachel was in the dance class - she'd said a few Mondays ago that she'd been out late "with a friend she ran into", and he realized now that had probably been Rachel. And Rachel was dancing the whole time with some guy that seemed really comfortable with her, this wasn't a guy she just knew from the class, he could tell they knew how each other moved.

_What the hell?_

The class over, he moved into his place at the drums and started playing with the band. Just basic latin rhythms; luckily, since it wasn't his style at all, all they needed was a strong steady beat and nothing fancy. His eyes were never far away from Rachel, watching her move, seeing her smile as she danced with that guy, some redhead she certainly looked like she knew. She was moving to the beat - he got some satisfaction that it was _his _beat - and seemed to be enjoying herself. At least they kept dancing, because he really didn't want to watch them be together off the dance floor. When he didn't watch her, he stared at the guy, willing him to just disappear. Who was this guy and what was Rachel doing going out dancing with him? She looked over at Finn sometimes, even smiling at him, but he didn't feel receptive to it, he was too confused and definitely too jealous.

Okay, so they'd aired out the problems, and he understood how she felt about what he'd done, not just the whole train blindside but in shutting her out from the doubts he'd been having and not accepting that she loved him. And they'd been reconnecting more as friends, hadn't really held hands or kissed yet, but it was just a start and it was supposed to build back to being a lot more... right? They hadn't talked about that, where they were going, but he'd thought that was the plan. She'd been so sure she could never move on, she'd told him she loved him, he'd told her he loved her. Or was it like what he'd done in junior year, going back to Quinn partly because she'd initially made him feel wanted again and partly because he didn't care enough about her for her to be able to hurt him much again? Did Rachel need some sort of fill-in because he'd hurt her?

If he got anywhere near the guy she was with he'd want to punch his lights out. Finn could tell he had quite a few inches on the other guy, so he should have no problem dealing with him even though he seemed built. Rachel came up a lot higher on the redhead than she ever did on Finn, of course she was wearing heels... and Finn got even more jealous, and he knew that's what he was, at seeing the skyscraper fuck-me heels that Rachel was wearing. He couldn't even see how she could dance in those at all, she never used to before.

He didn't dare go near them, he was way too close to going all caveman, decking the guy and taking Rachel backstage to show her why heels like that were called what they were. And she'd hate him forever, and he'd never get another gig if he made trouble. And damn, these weren't even his drums, so he couldn't take out his frustrations on them as much as he'd like. So at break he went over the drums again, checking everything, trying to let the routine of it calm him down, and he was relieved when Rachel and that guy left early in the second set. Though he sure didn't like that they clearly left together.

After the band was done, Santana came over to him, clearly taking in his barely restrained fury and frustration. "He's a friend from school, she says," Santana told him. "And I believe her."

"And you couldn't have told me she'd be here? Looks like you told her I was coming."

She shrugged. "Maybe I was wrong, I just thought you could use being the one surprised for a change. Look, I'm not perfect either, okay? And just because you're moving slowly with her doesn't mean I'm going to be, it's kind of cool getting along with her."

Finn frowned, knowing in his head that he should accept that. Still... "Did you see her shoes?"

"Her shoes? Channelling Lady Hummel now, are you?" Santana ribbed. "But yeah, they're hot, didn't know she had that in her. Your girl's grown up."

_My girl... I need to be more sure of that._

"And you might want to remember just which of you broke the other's heart this time."

Finn grumbled, but he had to concede her point - he had no right to expect Rachel to tiptoe around his feelings, when he'd clumsily shattered hers. But knowing that didn't change how he felt about this, it just made him feel more guilty.

* * *

Finn met Rachel the next day for coffee as usual, but even her welcoming smile couldn't stop his frown from slipping out. He knew he had no right, he'd "set her free", but she'd been so emphatic that she felt she could never truly be free of him and didn't want to, that she still loved him, and he'd thought they were trying to put themselves back together. Seeing her dancing with someone else, even enjoying herself - he shouldn't be sorry that she had a good time, but he also couldn't help but be jealous that it was with some other guy. And she'd looked really hot, and she'd been smiling as she'd moved to the rhythm of the music.

"So who was that guy?" he asked, a little petulantly, as they sat down on their usual bench. "The one you were dancing with last night."

"Sean? He's a classmate. A friend. He wanted to take the class and invited me along."

Finn's frown deepened, and looked carefully at Rachel. _Enough guessing, just get this straight._"What are we, Rach?" he asked quietly, his voice tight with confusion and emotion.

Rachel glanced back at him and exhaled. "What do you think we are?" she returned.

"I thought..." Finn halted. "I _think_ that we're two people in love who are trying to find how to be together," he said eventually, staring off, his eyes hooded. _Maybe we have to take it slow, she's hurt still and it's hard for her to trust me, I need to be more sure of who I am and be able to really let her in - but isn't that how we feel and where we're going? Isn't that the point of all of this?_

Rachel gave a small smile. "That sounds right to me." And he was so happy to hear that, and he looked at her with hope, seeing the sincere look on her face.

But... "Then who is _Sean_?" he asked.

"A friend who wanted to take a salsa class, and asked me along to dance with him."

"There are plenty of single girls in the class. He doesn't need you."

Rachel sighed. "Finn... did we look like we were together?"

"He had his arm around you." He knew this was stupid, but he couldn't help it. Wasn't she really his, still? Even after what he'd done.

"For dancing. When we weren't dancing, did you see us making eyes at each other or standing cozily together or _anything_? Or him coming on to me?"

Finn thought back, frowning. "No." _I'd've noticed._

"That's right, you didn't. And I know you didn't see it because it didn't happen. Not just because you were there, but because we're not like that ever."

"But why did he want you to come when there are lots of other girls? There's always spare girls at these things." It sounded suspicious. Even if the guy hadn't been coming on to her, that didn't mean he didn't plan to. And they moved far too well together for his liking.

"He didn't want any of them to get chummy and think he was available," Rachel answered. Finn gave her a quizzical look, and she sighed. "Sean's girlfriend is a literature student at Syracuse, and she's joined a salsa club there, she's been very enthusiastic about it apparently. Sean wanted to learn so he won't feel outclassed by her friends the next time he visits her. He didn't want to give any of the single girls in the class the wrong idea, so he didn't want to go solo. We dance together all the time in our class at NYADA and he knows I'm essentially unavailable so he asked me to go. And I've enjoyed the salsa, it's been fun."

Finn breathed a sigh of relief. "So why didn't you just tell me this before?"

"I told you he was a friend, and I've never interacted with him in any way that should be interpreted as anything more than friends. That should be all you need."

"I didn't know he wasn't after you."

"Does it matter?" Rachel looked at Finn with a hurt frown, her forehead wrinkling. "When we've been together, for me it's been because I love you, not because I haven't had other options." She slowly relaxed her face. "You're not 'the best I can do right now', Finn, you never have been. I know I don't want to be with anyone else, ever. Why else would I have been so upset at losing you?" She looked up at him, her face open but still insistent. "You're right, we need to get ourselves to the point where we can be together. But I'm not going to stay in and do nothing while we work on this, especially since I hate the dorms, and Sean's invitation seemed like the perfect opportunity to have more of a life."

He knew she was being defensive, and she had a right to be. With how she felt, he'd trapped her at NYADA, her social life limited by her being "essentially unavailable". Her heart still tied to him. Deliberately insisting that she stay lonely just piled on top of his negligence in making her lonely in the first place.

But he still didn't like seeing some other guy making her happy, even if it was just as a good friend. If that was what it was. Maybe because it so obviously showed him up for not doing it himself.

Yet, he wanted her to be happy. _Argh._

He could tell she was tense, because of him again, and he didn't want that. _Change the fucking subject_, he told himself. "So how was I?" he asked, and she looked at him, puzzled. "I'm not used to that style of drumming, and I was, um, really distracted," he explained. "You've been other times, right?" Rachel nodded, and he could tell she was starting to relax. "So how did I do?"

She eased more, and he even thought he saw a touch of a smile. "You were good," she said. "For dancing we need a strong consistent rhythm, and you gave us that."

"That's good. Uh, thanks."

She nudged him. "I did like seeing you in action," she said shyly, her head down a little. "And I enjoyed knowing that I was dancing to your beat."

"Yeah?" He had been thinking that too. He gave her a small sidelong smile. "Is that why you were smiling?"

"Mmm-hmm, at least some of it. Though I really don't think you need to find quite as big an excuse to avoid dancing yourself."

"If I get more drumming gigs I may never have to worry about dancing again," he chuckled.

"In that case you'd better get used to me doing it without you."

_Huh. Guess so._They sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said quietly, which surprised him; he couldn't see what she had to be sorry about, he was the one being unreasonably jealous and possessive when he couldn't really fill the role himself, not yet. "I shouldn't second-guess how you feel," she explained. "I know better than to do that, or I certainly should after... all that's happened. How you feel is how you feel, everyone is entitled to their own feelings, it's what you do about them that might be an issue. But really, there's nothing going on, we just dance together all the time. It's more of a collaboration than anything else. And I didn't mean to make you jealous." She bit her lip. "Though I must admit I don't mind finding out that I _can_."

_That you can? Of course you can... doesn't she **know? **_But Finn absorbed what she'd said, accepting that he was jealous, and that was how he felt, because he loved her and wanted her to be with him. And she clearly wanted this too, even though they had a ways to go. But maybe they could go a bit further.

"You know..." Finn started, prompting Rachel to give him an inquiring look. He gave her a half-smile. "You can kiss me if you want to," he finished softly.

Rachel blushed, lowering her head. She swallowed. "I want to," she whispered, but her voice was fraught.

Finn waited. And waited. And eventually raised his eyebrow. "So... are you going to?"

"Yes," Rachel breathed.

"Any time soon -" and Finn was cut off by Rachel's lips briefly pressing to his as she quickly leaned into him, then pulled away. It had been short but soft, and it was all Finn could do to stop himself from pulling her back in for more.

She lowered her head again. "I've missed that," she whispered. "How I've missed that. I've wondered if I'd ever feel that again."

"A few weeks ago, that didn't count?"

"No," she whispered, still staring at her feet. "It didn't feel like that." She leaned up into him again, pressing her lips to his for a little longer this time. Soft, sweet... _God, Rach, how did I ever think of giving this up. Giving you up._

He rubbed his lips together as she moved back, savouring the taste of her that lingered, complete with coffee. "No, it didn't," he agreed, a small grin rising to his face, and their eyes met.

They sat there, just looking into each other, both open. Finally Rachel lowered her eyes.

"I hate to break this, but I need to..." she gestured at the cafe, then stood. "I'll be right back."

Finn watched her go in, then settled to wait for her return, musing a little about what he should do next. A minute or so later, though, his thoughts were interrupted by someone coming up to stand in front of him, and he looked up to see the same red-haired young man he'd tried to wish out of existence the night before.

"So, I'm Sean Sinclair," the man said, looking down at him, "and you must be Finn."

"I must?" Finn answered, smiling tightly as he rose. And he'd been right about the dude's height, Finn had a good five inches on him. Not that he seemed intimidated.

"Well you're the guy who was looking laser beams at me all the time I was dancing with Rachel last night, so I hope you're Finn, because otherwise you're stuck on a girl you probably have no chance with. Impressive, how well you still drummed while doing that."

"Sorry about that. We've talked, I know how things are now."

"Hey, it's okay. People who don't do performance often don't understand 'up close and professional'. It's just dancing."

"When I performed with Rachel, it wasn't 'just' anything."

"That's different. The plan is when I try my moves out on Emily it won't be just dancing either. But it can be, and it certainly is for myself and Rachel. Besides, we get way closer in the stuff we do for school and that doesn't mean anything, and good thing too since we need to be able to concentrate." Sean paused, looking at Finn intently. "We're just friends. Though I'm not sure 'just' is accurate."

Finn frowned. "What do you mean?"

"That she's a really great girl, amazingly talented, and fragile like fine crystal, and from what limited amount I can gather, a hell of a lot of the latter is because of you." Sean's jaw was set. "So, yes, I'm her friend, and you should be glad she has a friend, because you taking care of her hasn't gone all that well."

"Yeah, I know." Finn grimaced further at this. "But you claim you're not thinking you could do a better job?"

"Oh I hope I can do a better job. I love Emily and I hope she never has to go through anything like what Rachel's endured. It's tough being apart but I do what I can."

"And if you didn't have Emily?"

"I don't even want to go there," Sean said, shaking his head. "I have no backup plan for if I don't have Emily, and I don't want one." He looked at Finn speculatively. "Did you? If you didn't have Rachel?" Because they both knew that Finn did have Rachel, even though they weren't really quite together.

Finn thought about it. Certainly before he 'freed' Rachel he'd accepted that he might never be with her again, even though he hated the idea of it. He'd never thought about anyone else instead, though, just that he could still love her even if he couldn't be with her. He shrugged, having a hard time being open to this stranger that seemed so protective of Rachel, especially when fifteen minutes ago he'd wanted to deck the guy. "Kind of but not entirely. Nobody else, anyway." He looked over at the door of the cafe, and saw Rachel coming back towards them. "There couldn't be, really."

Sean smiled. "I do know what that's like."

"Thanks for taking care of her," Finn said, looking down at Sean. "I hate that it's been necessary but it happened."

"Love makes fools of us all."

Rachel approached them at that point, and looked at Sean inquiringly. "And how is love making you a fool?"

Sean laughed. "By convincing me that even though I've been dancing jazz and ballet since I was a kid, I need to take a salsa class so I can keep up with my girlfriend on the dance floor."

Rachel smiled back at him. "Once you get the movements automatic you can concentrate on showing her a good time, isn't that what you told me?"

"Indeed it is. And I think I've got it down, we're going to have a great Christmas break."

"So..." Rachel looked at Finn. "Glad to see you two have met."

Finn smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I think we're cool, right Sean?"

"Sure," Sean said. "But we'd better get going, Rachel."

"Ouch. Yes." Rachel suddenly energized, having noticed with Sean's reminder that they'd taken longer than usual. "Finn..." she turned into him, then rose on her toes to give him a quick kiss. "I'll see you."

"Yeah. Bye, Rach." And Finn watched them go. Only when they were too far away did he realize that this time he really should have gotten her new phone number.

* * *

_Please review!_


	10. Back on the Path

_A/N: Sorry for the long delay! Work happened, there was this... Rush concert, and this chapter was tough to get straight (and it's long). The next few are well in progress and should come much faster. -HLine_

* * *

Late that evening Rachel got another text from Santana: _OK if I give Lurch your number? He swears he meant to ask you for it today._ Rachel smiled and texted back: _That's fine._

A few minutes later her phone rang, showing an unknown New York number, and she answered it.

"Hi Rach." She smiled at the familiar voice.

"Hello." She spoke warmly.

"So I swear I was going to ask you before you left, but you were running late."

"That's fine. And it is time, I agree."

"Uh... I haven't said what I was going to ask about yet."

Rachel was puzzled. "I thought you meant for my number."

"Well, yes. But I was going to ask you something else too," he explained carefully. 'Which is why I needed your number now, not next week."

In the background she heard a yell, "Just get on with it!", and she giggled a little at Santana's impatience with hearing Finn come nowhere near whatever his point was.

"Hold on a moment, I'm going to switch rooms here," Finn grumbled. A moment later she heard what might be a door closing sharply. "That's better. I'm in my room now. If she eavesdrops she can't complain."

"So..." Rachel prompted.

"What? Oh, my question. Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Are you free on Friday night?"

"I suppose I could be, why? Is something going on?"

"Just that I have the night off, and I was wondering if you would like to go out. With me. On a _date_."

Listening to the man she almost married haltingly ask her out, Rachel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She opted for neither, just a small sigh that he heard.

"You okay, Rach?"

"Ah, yes, just - what are we at now?"

"Dates?"

"First dates." Four? Or was it five, if they counted when they'd hung out in that week after the first sectionals?

"I don't know. I _do_ know it's the first time I've asked properly, though. I'm getting better at something." Rachel chuckled a little at this. "So will you, please? Go out with me?"

She swallowed. "Are you sure?" She'd known this was coming, probably soon, but it was still terrifying. If she didn't love him so much, need him with all she was, she would just walk away and stop handing her heart to someone who was sometimes so clumsy with it. Except she'd never really gotten it back in the first place. Ever. Each time they got back together it was better and lasted longer, but each time she lost him it hurt more, and she didn't know if she could survive it happening again. But not trying would be worse.

"Uh... it's just a date, Rach. I don't mean 'just' I guess, but... um, we were kissing today, which was great, so we should go out. I want to."

"It's just that we don't have the best track record with me giving you what you think you should ask for." She couldn't quite keep the sting out of her voice.

Silence. Then, eventually, softly: "Yeah. I know. And I should have listened to you, I shouldn't have pushed and convinced you we were ready."

Rachel wiped her eyes. "Finn... you convinced me _to be_ ready." Pause. "Do you get the difference?" It wasn't just that she'd agreed to marry him; she'd searched her heart and found it in herself to do it and to want it. To marry him, to bring their lives and dreams together, all of it. She hadn't been ready but she'd made herself ready, and then found it wasn't wanted after all. Felt like _she_ wasn't wanted after all.

Finn sighed. "Yes." Pause. "But Rach? Can you listen for a minute, please? And I know we don't have the best track record with that either, but I hope you'll get that this is true, it's not a change from anything that I've said before, even when I proposed. Okay?"

A few tears escaped from Rachel's eyes, remembering. "Okay."

"So it's more than just me meaning it right now, it's a fact. _True._" Finn took a deep breath. "I love you. And I know there's nobody else for me, just you. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I sent you away, about what my life would be like, but I really hoped we'd be together again. That's why I know we have to fix this, 'cause this is_ it_." He paused. "And it's like you told me before you said yes, before I convinced you, we can feel that and know it without putting our lives together yet. We can know that's what we want and that's where it's going without doing it yet. At least I think that's what you meant. It's what I mean now. And I think that's what we have to do, because my life's not really in shape to be put together with yours yet. But it's still you, it's always been you, and it's always going to be you. I know I wasn't open before with how I was feeling about myself and our future, but I am now, and there's this huge Rachel Berry-shaped hole in me that nothing else can ever fit. And I've changed on the other stuff because I didn't know how to handle this, and I didn't know what to do, but the fact that I love you and want to marry you and have a family with you and be with you forever..." Rachel was crying in earnest now, but did her best to keep quiet so she could listen, her hand over her mouth. His plea sank so deeply into her heart, and she wanted that all too, everything he described. "That's never changed and I don't see how it can change. It's _true_." He paused. "Uh, thanks for listening, you can talk now."

"I'm not sure I can," she managed to get out, her voice very small.

"Rach?" Finn's voice was worried.

"I want that too, of course I want that," she protested. "And if what we've been through and what you're describing is what it takes to get us there then... we're alive and we're here and we can do it."

"Good."

"But Finn... this almost broke me for good, this time. Losing you. How it happened, all of it. And now you're saying I never really lost you, and maybe I didn't but I believed I did and that was enough."

"I know." He sighed. "I just - I knew, I still know, that it's not fair to you, that you hold yourself back for me."

_How does he still not get it?_ Rachel wondered, and her frustration came back to the forefront. "Finn, this time _you_ need to listen, okay? And it's short, I hope, and I'll try to be clear, but I really need you to hear it and understand."

"Okay..." he replied with trepidation.

"What is fair to me is for you to ask me _what I want_. Because 'setting me free'? Obviously can't happen and could _never_ happen because I love you. And what is fair to me is _not_ for you to decide on your own that you're not good enough for me, because the only person who can truly decide that is _me_. What is fair to me is for you to not give up just because you started working on your dreams later than I did and you think somehow it's better for me that I not be with you. And I need you to understand this, because despite everything you said about how we're it for each other, and I think we are, it still didn't stop you from trying to walk away and leave me supposedly _for my own good_, and it almost destroyed me. It might have destroyed me completely if you'd gone ahead and enlisted and I didn't see you again." She paused, breathing deeply. "Finn, I love you, but it's not a magic wand. We're going to have to work at this, and it's going to be hard, and if I'm going to work at it I need to know that you're willing to work at it too, that you're not going to leave me again because of what you think _I_ need to do, or tell me to _let go_ as if you're just a habit when you're so much more to me, and it would only hurt me to try." She sighed. "That's all."

There was silence at the other end for a while, then Finn spoke. "Yeah. I get it, I really do. But it's hard."

"Nothing worth doing is easy, Finn. And this - it's worth everything, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "Maybe we should talk about this in person. I mean, I get what you're saying, but maybe by phone isn't the best way."

"No," Rachel replied. "No, we should talk about it now." She took a deep breath. "That way we can work it through and have a happy date."

"So it's a date?" She could hear his grin.

"Yes. As long as we talk about this stuff _now_."

"Great! Um, it's going to have to be really cheap, money's super tight but -"

"It's with you, that's all that matters. And we're in New York, there are a lot of things that are free." _Though some effort and thoughtfulness would be appreciated_, she thought.

"That's what I was thinking. We can find some interesting food carts, go for a walk on the High Line maybe, I've heard it's pretty cool."

"That sounds good. Really. But I don't care what we do, I never did, just - we have to figure out how not to have things go bad again. Because I can't handle it, I can't handle losing you again and I can't handle walking away either. And I don't understand how you could."

Finn exhaled sharply. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I couldn't really, obviously, that's why I'm here. It's just hard to think that this could stop you, because you never let anything stop you, Rach. That's the first thing that really bowled me over about you, even before we sang together, that you would just keep going and didn't worry about what people thought."

"It's easier to do that when what they think is almost always bad no matter what I do. Or it was like that."

"I guess. And yeah, you learned to compromise and work with other people, and that's good, but you were still you. Unstoppable. And then something was stopping you, and it was me, and that - it made me feel like I was something bad, that I could be what got in your way. Even worse that I wanted to, that I asked you to be like that for me."

Rachel groaned. "Finn -"

"I know, your way changed. But I want to let you know how I felt, okay? Because I didn't before, and I should have, and I'm going to try to keep doing this, keep letting you know. I felt like I'd become the only thing that could pull you off your path, and maybe there was a while when that made me feel good, ego and all that, but then I just thought about how that could hurt you. How I was hurting you even when I didn't want to. You were giving me everything and I couldn't give you enough back. And I still feel like that, but I think I have it a bit more straight now, that you have to follow your own path and mine's not ready to be with yours yet. It isn't, I'm just figuring it out, and if we put things together now your stuff will either take over or go away, and both of those are bad and we'll just end up hating each other. Even more than you did when you were pissed at me before. More permanently."

Silence descended for a while, as Rachel tried to make sense of what Finn had said. And it did make sense, she wanted him to feel like they were equals, as they could be, but - "I thought you wanted a date."

"Sure. Absolutely."

"But... I don't understand." _Does he want to try again or not? I thought we were trying again._

"We date. And we know where we want it to go but we know it's not there yet. We're not there yet. And, I guess, we just accept that. I rushed things, I know that, and we can't turn things back to how they were, but - maybe we can just decide to be us, you living your life and me working on mine, but we go out, steady, no walking away any more. And we do whatever you're comfortable with."

"What _I'm_ comfortable with?" After all, she had been comfortable with getting married. Of course she couldn't be now. She wasn't even comfortable in his arms, whenever she tried to relax she tensed by reflex, the safe _home_ feeling she used to have replaced by wondering how long it was going to last this time before he pulled away.

"Uh, yeah. I know it's hard for you to trust me, so whenever you're ready, for... for other things. Starting Friday, if we can go out."

Rachel paused, thinking, breathing slowly. "Okay." _We can do this. We have to._

"Okay." He paused. "So, Friday? I can pick you up any time after four. On foot, it's way too expensive to park in Manhattan. We can take the subway to get to the park."

"I can be ready at six, I need to shower and change after dance class."

"Great." Finn paused. "So when do you leave for the holidays?" he asked.

Rachel sighed. She hadn't wanted to have to explain this, but it was unavoidable. "I'm not."

"But your term is almost over, isn't it? Exams and stuff coming up soon, right?"

"Yes. Exams and the recital. But I'm staying in New York between terms."

"_What?_ Why aren't you going home? Are things with your dads still so bad?"

"Finn... I don't feel like I have a home, okay?" she threw back, exasperated, not with him particularly but with the situation. And especially upset with how true her words felt. She'd thought her home would be with Finn, after all, and that her dads would always be there for her, and then it all turned inside out. "It turned out not to be the way I thought it was. And I can't just let them expect me to go back, after what they did to us and what they wanted for me."

"Rach..." Finn was trying to cajole her into calming down, but she was having none of it. She started to cry again, letting out how frustrated she was with her fathers, with everything. How hurt she was at having her trust broken and finding out that she'd been treated as a puppet to manipulate instead of a person to be honest with.

"Everything we're having to deal with now, how things went so fast, they deliberately pushed us into going faster in the hopes that we couldn't handle it," she got out. She took a deep breath, getting herself back under some control at least. "Maybe we're both young and naive but they're not, they helped this happen because they wanted to. They just didn't intend it to happen this way, they counted on me being selfish instead of you being selfless."

"But you can't hate them," Finn protested. "They're your dads."

"I don't, but - I love you and they didn't seem to care what happened to you, as long as you were out of my way. That's a dealbreaker for me. So is finding out the people who taught me about absolute honesty can be so manipulative." She sniffled. "They were trying to get me to break your heart, Finn."

"And instead I broke yours."

"At least you were being self-sacrificing, as you saw it, even though it hurt me so much." She shook her head. "They _wanted_ me to be selfish," she said, her voice pained. "I've learned not to be as much, and I feel like I'm so much better for it, and they didn't want that. And I don't want the cold sort of life they seemed to want for me. I can't go back into my old room and pretend to be their little girl again, not the way things are now. I can't. So I'm staying here, NYADA doesn't kick us out over the break so it's fine."

"That doesn't sound very fine. You hate the dorms."

"I know, but..." _It's all I've got_, she thought. _All I can trust, anyway._ "There's so much going on in the city, I'm sure I can find things to keep me occupied. And the rehearsal rooms will be open too. There are others staying here as well, I won't be the only one." She made excuses, not wanting to go too much more deeply into how she felt about it. She'd make do, she supposed. Bad enough having to deal with it as it would happen, there was no need to feel even worse now by anticipating it.

"Well I'm not going back for very long, we have a New Year's Eve gig and we have to rehearse. So I'll be back sometime on the 27th. And then we can do something."

"Okay. That sounds nice."

"And I'll meet you Friday at six. Outside the dorms?"

"Yes. Do you need to know where they are?"

"Uh, no." Finn sounded sheepish. "I looked around a little, before. Tempting fate I guess." He sighed. "Good night. I love you. And we'll get this."

_I hope so_, Rachel thought. "I love you." She just hoped those words didn't sound as much like a plea as they felt.

* * *

Wednesday after his shift at the diner Finn decided to call his mom; it had been a while since they'd talked, and he hadn't told her about what he was doing for Christmas. They switched quickly to Skype, since that was free and had video.

It was good to see her, he'd really missed her. She looked a little tired, but her face lit up when she saw him. He gave her a quick update as to how things were going with his job and the band, though he got a little evasive and embarrassed when she asked about money. He was doing okay, still had quite a bit left of what she'd initially floated him; his main indulgence was his occasional drum lessons with a top guy he'd found through the musician's union. He admitted to that, and she encouraged him to do it more.

"It's still tuition even though it's not college," she explained. "I know you're trying to make it more on your own, but I figure it's my responsibility to pay for that if I can." He nodded, accepting that. He was used to them not having much, though, they never had. "And you know if you ever find you can't afford to come home for Christmas, any time, we'll pay for it," Carole said. "Ever."

"I know, Mom. It's just gas, really. The problem's more about time, we got a slot in a big New Year's Eve party and we need to practice. And I'm needed at the diner too. So I can be home at Christmas but not for too long after."

"Good. Because I know how you love Christmas, and it wouldn't be the same without you." But Finn was frowning, and she noticed. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Just thinking... there was a point when I thought I wouldn't be coming home for Christmas," he said. "Not just the army, but before that, I thought we'd be staying in New York, having our first Christmas together."

"Rachel."

"Yeah." Finn closed his eyes for a moment, then rubbed them; he'd been starting to tear up. Somehow the familiar family Christmas that he'd always loved paled in the face of the fantasy they'd both had, going skating at Rockerfeller Center, having their first tree fill their tiny apartment, waking up Christmas morning wrapped around each other and exchanging a first small present before they even considered getting up. He wondered what sort of Christmas he'd expected Rachel to have, being a star without him, glitzy parties but going home to an empty place. Sure she wasn't used to celebrating Christmas, she'd started doing that because of him, but the holidays were a hard time for the lonely. And though she'd tried to make it sound okay, she was going to be very lonely this year by herself.

"Is she coming home?" his mom asked tentatively.

"No, she's staying in New York," Finn answered. "Her dads don't celebrate, and even though she's got the time off..." he trailed off, considering how to put it. Rachel was still pissed at her dads, but it was more than that, something symbolic. "She doesn't want to go back home. Doesn't feel like it is home, she says."

"Lima? Or her house?"

"Her house, mostly. She said something about how she thinks it would feel like she was going back and being a little girl again, sleeping in her old room, and she can't stand the thought of that." He shook his head. "She still feels like her dads really betrayed her, Mom."

Carole looked at him for a moment. "Did I betray you too?" she asked. "Because I knew about it, at least part of it, and I went along with it at first."

Finn exhaled. "No, it's okay. She just feels manipulated, and she was so hurt by the whole thing. And she wants - needs - them to accept that she's her own person, and she thinks that if she goes back home now it'll feel too much like she isn't. Or that it'll all remind her too much of what they did."

"She could stay here."

"We're not at that stage again yet."

"I meant with Kurt."

Finn rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean _that_, though we're not there either. I mean... it'd be even worse for her, having Christmas with us but not in the way we were supposed to. Things are still kind of stiff."

"I see." Carole nodded. "Still, you should ask her. After all, wasn't making assumptions about what was right for her what helped you get into this mess in the first place?"

Finn grimaced. "Yeah," he admitted. "That and Dad." He shook his head. "I still don't know what to do about Dad."

Carole looked at him sadly. "I'm so sorry, Finn," she said.

"I thought you were mad about that, when I was going to join the army."

"I was. But not at you, not really, I was just trying to get you to listen." She sighed. "I was mad at myself, for building him up into too much of a legend and encouraging your hero-worship, for never figuring out how to explain that your father was a good man who lost his way. And so mad at him, again, for what happened. For everything that had you messed up enough that you chose a dead man who abandoned us over a live woman who loved you and didn't want to leave you."

"God, Mom, when you put it like that it sounds so awful."

"Wasn't it?" she asked, and he had to nod. It was hard not to think that he'd let his dad down, but he knew he'd let Rachel down. Easier to hope that a live person could forgive him, he guessed, and tell himself that she had alternatives while his dad didn't. And his feelings about everything, Rachel, his dad, his future, they had all been out of control.

"There was a lot more to it than Dad, though," he said. "And that was pretty screwed up too, but we think we're figuring it out. Taking it slow this time so we'll make it."

"That's good. That's the only reason I was concerned before, about your engagement, I hope you know that," she said. "I'm proud of you for not giving up."

"I couldn't. I guess I thought I could, because I thought I had to for her, but - not really."

His mother smiled. "Rachel's special. And I don't just think that because we agree on one of the most important things there is, but that doesn't hurt." She chuckled at Finn's puzzlement. "You, Finn. A mother will always appreciate someone who truly loves her child. And she sees the same things in you that I do, your heart and your potential. Even when you don't."

"Well with the whole army idea I was right about one thing, I push myself a lot harder when there's someone yelling at me," Finn said. "I don't know why they won't let women fight in the front line, put Santana in charge of a platoon and point them at the enemy and we'd win for sure."

"She's tough on you, huh?"

"She's tough on everyone, starting with herself. It's been good for me. And I'm glad it's not Rachel having to push me, I'd hate to make her do that but Santana seems to enjoy it. Plus it gives her an outlet, she has to be way nicer to the people she talks with for work than she's used to and sometimes it's really hard for her to hold all that in." He shrugged. "It's weird, but it works. For now, anyway."

Carole smiled. "It's good to hear you say that, actually. The 'for now' part."

"Guess I've always had a problem thinking long-term before. Never had to so much, maybe, not like some of the others." Finn knew Rachel had needed to think long-term for most of her life, just to get past how bad she'd had it at school. Kurt, too. Which led him to thoughts of his stepbrother. "How's Kurt doing?" he asked. "We haven't talked much recently, beyond him being annoyed that plaid flannel is actually in style." He chuckled. "He always said it never would be. Has he been raiding the clothes I left behind at all? I said he could just as a joke, but it's okay if he did as long as I can tease him about it."

Carole laughed. "Brothers," she said, shaking her head. "I think he scrounged some for the fabric."

"Heh."

"He's on edge waiting to hear about an internship right now - it's with a designer, a great opportunity for him. I think fashion is really his first love anyway."

"Wow. That's great."

"And it's a New York designer, so maybe you'll have company soon."

"Really? Awesome." _Maybe it's all going to happen after all - we shouldn't have given up. I shouldn't have. Gotta think long-term._ "Does Rachel know? It'd be so good for her if Kurt was here."

"Yes, he keeps her up to date on all of that. She even submitted his portfolio for him, so it wouldn't get lost."

"Cool." He tried not to care that Rachel hadn't told him - they'd been talking for half an hour a week, up until now, and they had a lot of their own things to work through. Maybe that made it easier for her to stay here over the holidays, hoping that Kurt would come soon. But he knew that hoping came hard to her, these days. Thanks to him. But he had to stop feeling guilty or they'd never be able to get anywhere. _Someday_, he promised, _someday when we've worked through all of this I can really make it up to her, make us both so happy that there'll be no room for regrets about how it came about. _Now that was a long-term goal all right. But that was next to start on, he hoped they'd gone through the things they needed to say so they could, because at some point they had to start being happy together instead of continuing to go over what couldn't be changed.

* * *

Friday at ten minutes to six Finn was waiting outside the NYADA dorms, a little nervous. He knew he didn't have to impress Rachel, it wasn't like that, but he did want to show her that she could be comfortable with him again, and that his plan (_latest plan, damn it_) that they date like normal people (_people who didn't almost get married_) was right and was worth trusting. Though trust wasn't something he could argue himself into, he knew.

A voice from close by interrupted his thoughts. "Do you go here?" It was a girl, probably a NYADA student, tall, blond.

"Uh, no," Finn stammered. "I'm waiting for my... my date." She looked disappointed, and Finn hoped she'd take the hint (not that it was a hint) and move on before Rachel showed up. _Though "my date", **seriously?** My girlfriend, my kind-of-fiancee-but-not-right-now, my girl, my future wife I hope... my** Rachel**. Because there's only one Rachel._ The girl was still standing nearby, but he didn't really notice her as the door to the residence opened and Rachel came out.

Finn's face lit up and he walked to her, beaming. "Hey," he said, smiling down at her. And she looked so beautiful, her hair sleek and softly curled under a black beret, with her face looking natural and a black coat over a very short dark red skirt. He hoped her legs wouldn't be cold, though those looked like tights anyway.

Rachel smiled back at him and leaned up for a light kiss. He took her hand, happy that she interlaced her fingers in his as she used to, and he walked with her to the subway. He insisted on paying, swiping his card twice and escorting her through ahead of him.

She smiled her thanks and loosened her coat in the warmth of the station, giving him a glimpse of her throat and the dark grey scoop-necked shirt she wore. Finn suddenly regretted making plans for a date outside, even though it was warm for the time of year. He'd figured staying outside would keep him from pushing too fast, and he was probably right since at the moment all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her neck, but she looked extra sexy under her coat and it was a pity not to get to see more. On the subway he told her about his mom's offer for her to stay with them over Christmas, adding his own invitation to it, but he wasn't surprised when she declined.

They started by the south end of the walk, crossing Hudson Street on their way from the subway. Finn agreed to stand under the street sign while Rachel took his picture, though he did feel like he probably looked pretty foolish doing it. There were "Hudson" signs up and down this side of Manhattan, especially at the waterfront along Hudson River Park, and Finn idly wondered how he'd ever thought he could successfully give Rachel space to "let him go" (as he'd thought of it then) when his name was plastered through the city like that.

They found a food cart nearby, some sort of Eastern fusion according to the sign, and Rachel said it looked interesting. As for Finn, food was food, so he went for the special (some sort of beef) while Rachel had a vegetable curry. He paid, and he carried their containers as they went up to the High Line, enjoying the first bit of the park as they made their way to some benches with a bit of a view.

Finn found it a little distracting watching Rachel eat, her mouth too enticing. But if he focused on his own food he ate too fast. So he talked instead, looking out at the view and wondering aloud about what he was looking at, glancing at her and meeting her eyes as she told him about most of it and speculated about the rest.

It was dark now, the lights all shining beneath them, so with their meals finished they took hands again and walked along, continuing to talk about what they saw. Finn fell silent and listened to Rachel chatter, soothed by the familiarity and the sound of her voice, enjoying her laugh as she told him some tale she'd heard about some place they apparently could see the lights of, whatever it was it couldn't be as important as just hearing _her_.

They stopped at a set of tall steps, Rachel sitting down and pulling him with her.

"You've been quiet," she said, looking into his eyes.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"This." He leaned down to her, his lips pressing against hers as he cradled her face in his hand.

A moment later Rachel pulled back, but only far enough to flicker her eyes up to his before leaning back into the kiss.

He felt her shiver a little, possibly cold, though her fondness for short skirts was never affected by worrying about whether she would be cold. Finn never suggested anything of the kind, since Rachel's wardrobe choices were much more likely to make him hot instead. And now, kissing her again, even just using his lips on hers, he was definitely getting hot. "I could do this forever," he murmured between kisses. "Just kiss you, forever." He could taste a little of the spiciness of her meal on her lips, and that made it better, a little earthy, Rachel was normally so fastidious about personal hygiene that more often than not she had tasted mostly of mint. Which was fine, any kiss with Rachel was great, but this was a little extra, more natural. She'd never complained about how he tasted either, though he was usually careful too. And he'd been thinking about her mouth while she'd been eating earlier, so... _why did I ever think I could live without her again? Oh yeah, I figured I'd be so exhausted in the army I'd collapse into my bunk and tell myself that I'd done the right thing. Or something like that._

"Mmm..." came Rachel's reply, and she was clearly enjoying it too, kissing him back, though her mouth was still mostly closed and he didn't want to push. "I hope we'll get further, if there's forever," she murmured shyly.

_I hope we'll get further next week_, Finn thought, but he'd take what he could get.

Rachel suggested they take a look at some of the art galleries, since they were close to that district, and Finn agreed, hopefully keeping his reluctance to himself. It wasn't his kind of thing. He wasn't sure it was hers either, or it hadn't been before, but Lima hadn't had anything much like that.

The first place they went was mostly prints, and they looked fine. Some prints were of famous pictures that were at the Met or other New York museums, and that reminded him that the one in Brooklyn was sometimes free. He'd have to look into that. And he liked some of the pictures that had people dressed like they did back in the fifties, though the information said the pictures were recent. Still not really his thing though.

They moved down the street to a gallery with originals, and stepped inside to stop at a large abstract swirl of paint, varied reds over black. It made Finn uncomfortable, both the painting itself, so angry, and the abstractness of it all. He had less than zero interest in abstract art, and he hadn't thought Rachel had any interest in it either. Even Kurt gave his version of "yeah whatever" for that.

Rachel looked at the piece assessingly, her head cocked. "What do you think?" she asked Finn, and he groaned mentally. _Seriously? What does she expect I'd think?_

But he'd better say something, so he looked at the title again, and wondered how the hell the artist expected "Rage of Worms Under the Full Moon at Apple-Picking Time" to be something anyone could get from the jagged and swirled strokes of red and black. "I don't know, I mean I get the impact, if I just look at it," he said dubiously. The title actually seemed more like a joke, something fake-sophisticated to see if people fell for it. And he had no idea how anyone who liked this kind of thing would have a clue about "apple-picking time" anyway.

"But...?" Rachel was not letting him off the hook.

_Be honest,_ he told himself. _She loves me, right? This is me._ "But all that? I don't get all that, it seems way too subtle," he admitted. "I guess if they want it to be, uh, hard to understand..."

"Inaccessible," she prompted.

"Yeah. Inaccessible. But that's not a good thing, and if you do that deliberately you shouldn't be surprised if people don't get it, right? At least the details. I get the emotion, mostly, it's angry, and maybe like finding out the world you thought was yours wasn't, or something like that, from the title. But it's confusing, if he really wanted everyone to know what he was thinking he's not showing it." But Finn saw Rachel frown, and he realized belatedly she might think he was talking about her, about them, and that's not what he meant at all. In fact... "I appreciate more direct honesty, I guess," he finished quickly, and saw her relax. After all, he never had to guess how Rachel felt, and that was way more important than some picture. And even though he wasn't into musicals, he at least got them, how they laid everything out there. They weren't inaccessible. If this artist couldn't communicate what he wanted, it wasn't entirely Finn's fault for not getting it.

"It's art that makes you think," the man working at the gallery said, hovering near and sounding clearly condescending. Finn winced, but Rachel tossed her head.

"Then it's to be expected that our thoughts about it would be different, isn't it?" Rachel asked rhetorically, and Finn smiled as he heard her back him up, the potential trap not there after all. One of the things he'd always loved about Rachel was how even though she was driven to excel she still wasn't pretentious. New York hadn't changed her yet, not like that, and neither had her friendship with Kurt. In fact, Kurt's previous pretentiousness had mostly worn off, become more natural, even though he still picked on Finn's clothes (and everyone else's, to be fair). Come to think of it, just about everyone close to Finn had picked on Finn's clothes, aside from his mother and stepfather and Rachel herself. Rachel hadn't even had a problem with his old cowboy wallpaper. And Rachel had decorated her old room back in Lima with Broadway posters, not anything like this.

Rachel looped her arm through Finn's as she continued to talk to the gallery staff member. "And of course as original and unique art, it's really just a question of it finding the right individual," she commented further. "It's making that connection that shows the value of a gallery and its staff." She turned, Finn deciding to follow while pressing his lips together to stop himself from laughing. They left the gallery.

Outside, Rachel relaxed and giggled. "That was a little fun, the man was being so patronizing. And I don't know who would want to hang something like that on their walls - it looks so harsh, and I'd rather look at something nice. Attractive."

Finn smiled at her, happy to see her mirror his thoughts on this. "I already am," he said, gazing more strongly at her, and Rachel blushed. But he wasn't just flattering her, some of those modern fifties prints were ones he thought she'd fit right into, and then they'd've been perfect.

They went back to the subway, and this time they were quite warm, having come in from the cold; Finn helped Rachel off with her coat, folding it over his far arm, and they sat down close together with Finn's other arm loosely around her shoulders. She seemed fine with that, and they talked a little more, about nothing in particular, relaxed. His hand grazed her shoulder and he could feel the warmth of her, and was it ever hard to be this many steps back with her when he remembered so much more. _Long term_, he told himself, and yes he'd been right to keep things public, it helped his self-control. Which was even more necessary once they left the subway and he helped her back on with her coat, using every ounce of restraint he had to keep himself from kissing her neck. He did bend his head down, close enough to smell her scent, still essentially the same, still _Rachel._

He walked her back to the dorms and they stopped outside. "How about we do this again next Friday?" Finn asked. "Something different, of course, but a date. Maybe something indoors this time." _Yeah, real smooth there._

"I'm busy," Rachel replied. "I'm sorry, but next Friday night is the freshman recital."

"Hey, that's great. It's public, right?"

"Ah... yes, there's tickets," she said reluctantly. "Just..."

"What is it?"

She swallowed. "I'm not sure about you coming," she said. "We're just starting again, and - I don't want all that to take over. My performing."

"Oh." Finn couldn't hide his disappointment.

"So I think I'd rather you didn't, not yet. Okay?"

"Uh, okay," Finn replied reluctantly, but it wasn't really. He got why she thought that, but that didn't mean he liked it. Or agreed that it was right. But... _whatever she wants_, he told himself. _Whatever she's comfortable with._ But he really hoped that this would be temporary.

* * *

_Please review!_


	11. Complimenting 101

Finn dreamed of Rachel that night. Not that he hadn't before, he often did, or at least he often woke up feeling that he had. He remembered more of this one, fragments of kissing her, of her kissing him back and going farther, climbing into his lap, his head rolling back in the sheer pleasure and joy of knowing she was with him again, that he'd mended all of it and put them back where they should be. Slivers of vision showed he'd put them where they'd been that night, on the steps of the High Line in full sight of a significant part of Lower Manhattan, him and Rachel and New York all together.

He woke up craving her more than ever, and had to deal with it quickly before catching the early start of his Saturday shift at the diner. Seven to two, the timing was terrible but the tips were great, even shared three ways. And he'd better resign himself to having a schedule that depended on when other people wanted to go out, that was the nature of what he did and what he wanted to do.

Still, he was tired that night, and the next, too tired to remember his dreams when he woke.

* * *

Tuesday Finn met Rachel for coffee as usual. She was stressed, he could tell, the upcoming recital getting to her. It was hard for him to help, though, or even say much, when she seemed so determined to keep that part of herself away from him. And it was a big part of her, okay not everything, there was a lot more to her that he loved, and the whole "working on our lives separately" thing was his idea, but how could they really connect if she was keeping away from him on that? He couldn't even offer her comfort, she was still shying away from him holding her.

Tuesday night his dream sucked, visions of Rachel on stage, she looked like she was singing but all he could hear was silence followed by applause. He awoke feeling snarly, a mood that was not lost on Santana as they both used the kitchen at breakfast.

"Who pissed in your cornflakes?" she asked snarkily.

"Must have been you, nobody else around here," he growled flatly.

"_That_ again," she threw back, which at least got his attention. And he shouldn't take it out on her, so he drank his coffee and brought his brain out of the depths.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Sorry."

"I thought things were going well."

"As well as I can expect, I guess, just..." he shrugged.

"Is it this recital? Of course she's stressed, but she'll be fine once she hits the stage." Santana drank more of her own coffee. "You'll have to tell me how it goes, I still have my regular shift on Friday."

Finn lowered his head. "I'm not going," he said, gritting it out. It hurt to say it.

"Hold on. _You're_ not going to her recital?" Santana stared at him, then made a great show of checking her ears to be sure she was hearing this correctly. "I know you have the night off."

"She said she'd rather I not go, and I'm going to respect that."

"_She doesn't want you to hear her sing?_ Is this some sort of weird alternative universe? Because she spent three years boring the rest of us in the choir room while she sang to you, at least I thought she did." Santana looked dumbfoundedly at Finn, who shrugged. "If that was all a dream then my subconscious is seriously twisted." But she turned thoughtful. "Then again, maybe it does make a crazy sort of sense, and she knows crazy," she went on. "After all, what did that get her but a one-way ticket away from you, when you focused on the 'singing' part and ignored the 'to you' part. And that's annoying, really, since all those heartfelt whines of hers certainly weren't for any of the rest of us."

Finn frowned at Santana, annoyed with her description of Rachel's singing. "Hey, aren't you friends now? What's with the insults?"

"Oh that stuff I always really thought, it wasn't just to get under her skin. I mean nothing against the musical quality of any of it, mind you, but the songs were always for you, it did get old really fast for everyone else, and it's a shame that it seems you didn't get the importance of that, like you were her muse but didn't know it and cut her off. Because then the rest of us suffered in vain."

Finn still frowned, but nodded reluctantly. "It's kind of like that, I guess. Just after I did... that, one of the things she was really upset about was feeling that I'd made it all about her voice, that I rejected _her_. So if she wants to be sure I care about her as her, and this is how she wants to do that, I'm just going to go along with it." He huffed in frustration. "I really miss hearing her sing, though." _And it's annoying that everyone else gets to hear her and I don't, it should be the other way around. Didn't she always say she sings better for me?_

"What else do you miss about her?" Santana asked slowly, looking at him speculatively. Finn stared back, confused. "Not that I want to hear all about it, but you should think about that. Because if she felt that, then she's realized that praising her voice isn't the compliment you might think it is."

"It's not? But her voice is amazing." Even without having heard it recently, he knew. He dreamed about hearing it sometimes, her singing to him.

"And she knows it, and she probably hears that a lot. Even though I bet for you it's better than it is for everyone else." Santana sighed. "Look, I hate to give away my secrets here, but complimenting someone is a lot like insulting them, you just say something nice instead of not, so I have a lot of expertise."

"That's obvious," Finn commented.

"Not so fast, Tubs." Finn rolled his eyes at Santana's insult, and she smirked and continued. "It's all in what you talk about. I'm probably going to regret telling you this, but have you ever wondered why it's your shape I go after? Or sometimes your brain?"

Finn shrugged. "It's a weakness."

"So's your coordination, and I don't usually go after that. Do you know why?"

"You mean you're actually going to tell me?"

"Don't protest or I may change my mind. But since the alternative is listening to you moan for the next year about why you and Berry are moving at a glacial pace - and these days that means backwards - I am willing to tell you the secret to an effective insult, and by extension an effective compliment. So pay attention."

Finn saw that Santana was really serious about this, so he nodded. "Okay. So why don't you pick on my coordination that much?"

"Because you know it's bad."

Finn waited, and no further explanation came. "That's it?"

"Yes. You don't think it's bad, you _know_ it. So the effect of reminding you about it is much less than telling you that you're in crappy shape, which is something that you think about and bothers you but you still hope is better than you fear it is. Finding where that hope is and killing it is the secret to an effective put-down."

That actually made a strange sort of sense to Finn. "But what does that have to do with complimenting someone?"

Santana shook her head bemusedly. "It's hard to believe you used to spend so much time with Puckerman, he could charm the panties off of just about any girl, and he used the same tricks that I used to beat them down." She stared at him pointedly. "It's the same target, you fool. Anything that someone knows they're good at, they won't believe as an insult, and complimenting it doesn't stand out or make them feel extra good. Anything that someone knows they're bad at, the insult doesn't make them feel especially worse, and the compliment just sounds like someone's blowing smoke up their ass. It's the things in between that you go after, qualities about themselves that they hope are better than they probably are, and are definitely better than they fear. You're not really in that bad shape, especially now when you've been lugging your kit around. But you're not in good enough shape to ignore me when I say something bad about it, or bad enough to just go 'whatever'. And if I say something good about it..."

"I'd wonder what you were up to," Finn put in.

Santana smiled. "Okay. But that's because it's from me. If somebody else did, you'd feel happy, right?"

"Well, yeah." Finn thought about it. "So complimenting Rachel's singing isn't that big a deal because she knows she's good."

"Yep. Everybody compliments her singing. Sometimes even me. Even when I hated her."

"So what would be a big deal?" Finn tried to think.

"God, I don't know how the two of you ever got together before. She must really love you, because it sure isn't your sweet-talking ways that caught her." Santana gave him an exasperated look. "It's her looks. And not just whether she looks good, but whether she's _sexy_. It's true for a lot of people, especially a lot of girls, but trust me, I insulted her about it for most of high school. It's her weakness. And especially when it comes to you. She wants you to want her."

_Cheap Trick_, Finn thought momentarily, free-associating his way back to a song before he pulled his mind back to Santana's point. "But she knows I love her."

"Love her. But want her, want her so much that you can know she's yours and still have blue balls because she's not with you right then? Does she know our water usage is higher on Tuesdays because after you've seen her you need a cold shower? Does she know you lie awake at night thinking about her tight little body and fantasizing about what the two of you would have gotten up to on your honeymoon? Assuming that you do, but if you don't, you should. Because that was the choice you made, assuming that you still rejected the adult option where you actually talked to her about how you didn't really know what you were doing with your life yet."

_Huh._ Well he'd been holding back, not wanting to pressure her, but he already had plenty of evidence that it never really mattered to Rachel why he pulled away any time that he had, it just mattered that he did. And Finn thought back to junior year, to her brief wardrobe change, to his defensive idiocy at telling her that Santana was 'super hot', to how that plastic surgeon had played on her insecurities to convince her to get a nose job (eventually unsuccessfully, thank God), which for Finn would have meant a disfigurement of the face he loved so much. To how he'd done better the next summer, after they'd reunited, at showing her his appreciation for how she looked in her little sundresses and bikinis, and how she'd glowed at the attention. And yes, how he'd been sorry to have missed out on another summer together, aside from the cancelled honeymoon he knew that if they'd resolved things so that she'd gone away normally they could have had a fantastic summer, better even than the one before. Pressed together barely dressed in the hammock, hands sliding under each others' clothes, skinny-dipping at night out at the lake, making love under the stars... doing all the things he'd dreamed about and looked forward to the winter before, all those things they'd never gotten to do and might have kept him going through the times without her that followed.

Forget about hearing her sing, what he really missed was the breathy way she'd moan his name. Well, and her singing, it always went straight to his heart like a bolt of lightning. That wasn't her "star power", not really, that was just what Rachel did to him. Their own special something.

He grunted, and Santana raised her eyebrow. "Okay, I definitely didn't mean for you to think about those things _right now_," she said. "But since you do, you should figure out some way to tell her. Or show her. Get across to her somehow that the only things that stop you from taking her right in the middle of Central Park are your natural chivalry and your respect for her feelings."

"And that we'd be arrested."

"A public indecency charge might be good publicity for a struggling musician like you, it'd build your rep."

Finn rolled his eyes. "I can't afford the fine."

That comment broke into Santana's attitude, and she stared at him. "You sound like you've actually looked into this."

"Scott was picking on Daryl and Irene for PDA during set-up last week. Nothing to do with me."

She shook her head, smiling. "And those two have nothing on the two of you, last year. Anyway, my point is, let her know _all_ of what you want from her, and I don't mean just telling her. She needs to _feel_ sexy, it'll make her feel good and loosen her up all at once. You want to be her lover and partner or whatever, make sure you don't act like you're just another member of the audience, because she has plenty of those, or she will. Hell, you said she didn't like having you make her life decisions for her, not that I blame her, try showing her that no matter what else happens she's still in charge because she's got you by the balls and you like it that way." Santana gave a pointed look at Finn. "You are whipped, you might as well make use of it."

Finn frowned, protesting this last point, but after a moment's consideration of the rest he nodded. Rachel had even lit up at his lame little compliment on her looks the other night after they'd left the gallery - she was so beautiful it was hard to remember she didn't know it, that years of being made fun of and called ugly names had taken their toll. That was partly Santana's handiwork, from before, but of course it did mean she knew where Rachel's weak spots were. And maybe even how to heal them. "Thanks, San," Finn said, giving Santana a small smile. "You know, time was I'd've thought you'd be the last person trying to help us get back together."

"Just trying to square my debt to karma," Santana said, shrugging. "Hey, they say karma's a bitch, and if she's anything like me, I need to get on her good side. Plus I hate hearing your mopey whine, it's depressing and makes me think there's wind coming through a crack in the windows somewhere."

Finn snorted. "Sure."

Santana grimaced, and she looked at him seriously. "Okay, fine, I'll admit it. I didn't take these things seriously before, okay? I think you can get why I didn't, it's not like anything I ever did with a guy meant anything deep as far as I was concerned, it was just ego and power. And back then I really didn't think you were that serious about her."

"_What?_" Was he that freaking bad at showing how he felt? Because he'd always been serious about Rachel, even when he wasn't with her.

"Hey, calm down, okay? It's all done and we're actually good friends now. Just..." Santana waved her hands, gesturing emphatically. "If anyone had treated Britt the way some of us treated Berry, I'd probably have killed them. Certainly made their life hell, and definitely wouldn't have gotten along with them. Or gone out with them. Or slept with them."

Finn sighed glumly. _Yeah,_ he thought. _Still... that's all done, and that's a whole different thing we fixed before. We're here now, right? We can do this and we have to._ "So I need to follow through with how I feel," he stated.

Santana nodded. "You _really_ need to follow through with how you feel."

* * *

Late Thursday afternoon, as usual, found Finn and his bandmates setting up at _The Invisible Hand_, the Lower Manhattan club where they played. And also as usual, the drums took the longest; Finn had started early but still found himself lagging on setup, needing to adjust the snare a little more to get the sound the way he wanted. The others waited for him as he knelt by his kit.

Deep in concentration, he barely heard the door to the club open and close, and he didn't pay any attention to it.

"Hey Finn, your girl's here," Daryl called out.

_My girl?_ Puzzled, Finn rose and turned to the door. "What? You know Santana's not -" He froze, seeing Rachel. "- my girl," he finished slowly. He swallowed. "Hi," he said, the ghost of a smile flickering over his face.

"Hello. I hope you don't mind that I came by, I needed to talk to you and I knew this was where you'd be," Rachel said hesitantly.

"Ah, no, it's fine," Finn said. He gave his bandmates a puzzled glance - how did they know? Was it that obvious? He hadn't mentioned Rachel to any of them.

Daryl looked smug, but Scott rolled his eyes. "We googled you as soon as Tyler gave us your name, did you really think we wouldn't?" Scott said.

Finn winced, but a number of little things about how they'd first interacted with him made sense now, like how they hadn't been surprised about his singing. They must've seen that first Nationals video on YouTube. He reddened a little, but reminded himself that they'd seen it weeks ago and there wasn't much point in being embarrassed by it now. He swallowed again and moved away from the small stage, Rachel coming towards him.

"So..." He smiled at her. "Uh, this is the band. Scott, Daryl, Irene." He gestured behind him at the others. "Guys, this is Rachel." They waved, and he closed the last few steps to her and drew her aside. "So what's up?" He was on edge, figuring it must be something big for her to come find him like that.

Rachel bit her lip, looking tense. "I'm sorry," she said, which made Finn even more concerned. Nothing that Rachel would need to apologize for would be good. "For not wanting you to come to the recital."

_Just that? I guess I should be glad it's bugging her, it's certainly bugging me._ "Uh, that's fine, really," he said. "You explained why."

"But I was wrong," Rachel protested. "I've realized I'm being quite foolish about this, and doing something not much different than what I had a problem with you doing to me. I've always appreciated your belief in me, I shouldn't make you think I don't or reject it. I'm so sorry I was doing that."

_Oh._ "Uh, okay, yeah," Finn said, very relieved. And this sounded good. He smiled a little. "Apology accepted. And you know I always believe in you, I always have and I always will. Whether you want me to or not."

"I know. And I appreciate it, really I do, I know I was acting like I didn't but I do. I like you believing in me, I need it actually."

"But don't let it take over," Finn commented.

"It's hard to be moderate when we feel the way we do, but yes." She looked up at him. "I want it all, and that means all of you, and there have been times when your belief in me has been the main thing that sustained me." She put her hand on his arm. "I shouldn't turn away from it now, and really I don't want to. I was just scared, I want it but I want so much more too." She gave a small smile. "Please just don't believe in me so much that you believe I don't need you, I suppose. Or think that how we connect when I perform is how I'm connecting with everyone else, because it isn't."

Finn smiled tightly. "I'll try. So you _do_ want me to come tomorrow?"

"I always did, really. And I know I'll be better with you there then I would without you." Her face flickered. "That's true in general, of course. So if you can, yes please." She looked up at him with a hopeful smile. "I even managed to get you a good ticket."

"Well as it happens I am available," Finn said, grinning.

"Good." She opened her purse and took out a ticket, which she handed to him. He took it and bent down to give her a soft kiss, his hand on her cheek.

"I want it all too," he whispered in her ear, then pulled back so he could meet her eyes for a long look. This might be a good time to put Santana's advice into practice, he realized, if the band was ready. And make the whole thing more equal. He looked back at the stage. "Hey, you guys about ready for soundcheck?"

"Actually we're waiting on you," Scott commented. "Remember?"

_Right. Snare adjustment._ He looked down at Rachel. "Could you please wait a few minutes? I'd like to play you something." She nodded, and he conferred with the others, telling them what song he'd like to do, one of the older ones in their repertoire. Normally Daryl sang it but Finn knew the vocals as well, and they'd leave out some of the repeats to shorten it and go for one of the variations to highlight him.

The others checked over their instruments again as Finn went back to his drums, tightening up the snare as he'd meant to do. It sounded fine now, and he took his place on his drum stool, nodding at the others to get ready.

Finn was actually a bit gun-shy of using music to make his point, since it was almost too effective. When he'd proposed, he really should have listened to her concerns, but he'd gone for the musical argument instead and convinced her to go fast; also, while it wasn't an excuse at all for how badly he'd overlooked Rachel's likely reaction to the blindside he'd given her and to him pushing her away supposedly for her own good, the fact that he'd just listened to a week's worth of songs about bravely saying goodbye to loved ones had certainly encouraged him to think of what he was doing as his own sacrifice, along those lines. Mr. Schue's lesson plan had struck one last time.

So decisions made under the influence of music, not always that good. But he wasn't trying to get her to decide anything, he was just trying to express how he felt and make her feel good about how he saw her, in ways that had nothing at all to do with her star potential. Ways that told her she was most definitely appreciated for a lot more than her voice, and that he really didn't want to be _just_ in the audience.

They'd always connected best through music, it was past time to get that going again.

Finn started drumming, his energy high, and after a couple of bars Daryl and Scott joined in, then he started singing: (*)

_I want you to want me_  
_I need you to need me_  
_I'd love you to love me_  
_I'm begging you to beg me_  
_I want you to want me_  
_I need you to need me_  
_I'd love you to love me_

No whiny plea, this was an all-out testosterone-charged statement. And he could see her moving to the beat, his beat, smiling a little at him. _Good. Feel it with me, Rach._

_I'll shine up the old brown shoes_  
_Put on a brand new shirt_  
_I'll get home early from work_  
_If you say that you love me_

The next section cut close to home for both of them. Some of it was also wicked fast to sing, but he jumped in and rattled it off as well as he could.

_Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying?_  
_Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying?_  
_Feeling all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dying_  
_Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying?_

Freed from singing, Daryl let loose on the guitar solo even more than usual.

_Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dying_  
_Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying?_

Daryl and Scott jammed, extending the instrumental for a while.

_I want you to want me_  
_I need you to need me_  
_I'd love you to love me_  
_I'm begging you to beg me_

Then he slowed, the guitars silent and the sound stripped down to basic drums. Finn locked his eyes on Rachel as he chanted his message, and saw her flush, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted. _Yeah._

_I want you to want me_  
_I want you to want me_  
_I want you to want me_  
_I want you to want me_

They played the song out, and Daryl and Scott bowed. Rachel applauded them.

Finn gazed at her, letting his heart pour through his eyes, and he slowly got up from the drums and walked back to her.

"Thank you," Rachel murmured, her eyes still dark and deep. "It does make it easier to have you watch me, having watched you. And I love seeing you like this, powerful, like you're rediscovering some of what you are. I believe in you too, you know." She reached up to him, pulling his head down to her for a kiss, and her lips parted for him, pulling at his lower lip like she used to... he fell back into their old pattern, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Thrilling at the feel and taste of her, again, with extra appreciation that she felt comfortable enough with him for this. Though as he moved an arm down to her body she shrugged it off, pausing for a split second before resuming the kiss. That was unusual, but he'd take what he could get. "And I do, of course I do," she murmured.

_She does... what?_ He smiled, understanding it as an answer to the song. "You want me, huh?"

"Never stopped, ever since we started. Never could stop."

"Same here." He straightened, still standing close to her. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Yes." She stepped back. "Oh, and there's an afterparty, if you can come." She took a deep breath. "I'd like you to come, as my date."

Finn grinned, happy at this step. "Sure thing." He was due at the diner at seven the next morning, but he didn't have to be all that awake.

"But I should warn you - the dance number is kind of steamy," she said, blushing. "It doesn't feel that way doing it, but it's supposed to look that way."

"Okay." He could handle that, as long as she only felt that way with him. He figured they couldn't really feel aroused on stage, anyway, too much potential to lose control. As they both well knew from experience.

"And Santana asked me over tonight, I need a little stress relief before the show and she offered," she said tentatively. "Is that okay? I won't be there late, I need to get a good night's sleep."

"Uh, yeah, of course," he replied. "It's her place as much as it is mine, more even, she pays more of the rent. And I don't have any problem with you being there, of course not."

"Good. Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Finn watched Rachel go, then turned with a "Yes!" fistpump... to find all three of his bandmates blatantly watching him.

"If we ever institute that PDA fine system I'm gonna make a mint," Scott commented. Finn reddened but couldn't have peeled the smile from his face if he'd wanted to.

Okay, things were kind of unnatural. Rachel seemed more comfortable with his tongue in her mouth than his arms around her - that was weird - and her visiting Santana before visiting him was completely upside-down from how things used to be. He hadn't invited her over yet, of course, but that was because they were taking it slow. He didn't like to think about what sort of "stress relief" Santana might have in mind for her, but he was sure that option 3 was way off the table right now, and he didn't think much booze could be involved since Rachel had to do the show tomorrow. But things were moving, definitely in the right direction especially with her asking him to go to the afterparty with her, and yeah she wanted him all right. And he did feel powerful like she said, which felt really awesome. He had to let her believe in him too, and it felt good when he did.

For now, they had a gig to play.

* * *

That night as Finn returned to the apartment, bringing the drums in as quietly as he could, he smelled a light but familiar and long-missed aroma. And there on the kitchen counter was a sign with his name, and two fresh loaves of banana bread.

_Stress relief. Of course. Thanks, Rach, I love you._

Some things were back to normal after all.

* * *

_* "I Want You to Want Me", as performed by Cheap Trick (live version), written by Rick Nielsen._

* * *

_Please review!_


	12. Interpretations

_A/N: Given what we're having to endure on the show, I'm going to try to pick up my writing pace a little._

* * *

Friday night Finn dressed up a bit, black dress shirt and pants, and made his way to NYADA to Rachel's recital. He arrived ten minutes before curtain, and his ticket was indeed very good, right in the middle of the third row.

"Oh, you must be Finn," the sandy blonde girl next to him said as he sat down, turning to him with a friendly smile.

_What, is it like on my face or something? _Finn thought. "If I must," he joked a little.

She chuckled. "I'm Emily Greiter, Sean's girlfriend. I came in for the show. Sean had two tickets and Rachel talked him out of the second one so you could have it."

"Oh, okay. That was really nice of him, and you, thank you." He nodded to her. "Finn Hudson."

"As expected. Very good to meet you." Her look was speculative. "So, have you been warned about the dance number?"

"That it looks really hot and we shouldn't take it seriously? Yes."

"That's about what I was told too. Sean's sweet to warn me, but I've seen him dance and act quite a bit before, I'm used to that sort of thing. And he's mostly with Rachel, he says, so of course there's nothing in it from either side."

_Wish it was that easy for me to see 'of course' like that, _Finn thought. "Have you met Rachel?"

"A few times. A couple of times briefly, and then she came down at Thanksgiving. Sean's mother refuses to hear of _anyone _being alone at Thanksgiving. It was good to get to know her better. Rachel."

"So you know not to be worried." Finn considered mentioning his first seeing Sean with Rachel in the salsa class, but stopped himself when he realized that Sean might be intending to surprise Emily about it.

"I wouldn't anyway. At least not much, and as I said I'm used to seeing Sean perform with others. You're used to seeing Rachel, surely?"

"Not as much," Finn admitted. "She sang more than anything, either by herself or for show choir, and I sang with her then. She starred in _West Side Story_, last year, but the guy she acted with in that is my stepbrother's boyfriend."

"Keeping it in the family."

"Yeah. So I haven't seen her much with other guys. I guess it's going to be normal, though, so I'd better get used to it."

"Starting now," Emily whispered as the lights came down. A spotlight illuminated the side of the stage, following Carmen Thibideaux as she walked to the center. She gave them a brief welcome to NYADA and the recital, talking up the progress of the freshman class as both excellent and only to be expected, and then walked off as the curtain rose.

Then the dancers came on stage, and there was Rachel, God she looked amazing, and then Sean, and... yeah, this number was worth warning them about. And those shoes looked a lot like the ones she'd worn for the salsa class, guess she was used to the height. Finn clenched his hands unconsciously; seeing some other guy with his hands on her hips and his face a bare inch away from her chest wasn't normal. Though it did explain why she didn't see the salsa dancing as being anything much, it was completely tame compared to this. But at least he'd met the guy and the guy's girlfriend was sitting right next to him. She seemed to be taking it better, out of the corner of his eye he saw her even smile as she watched Sean. Maybe she could tell Sean was acting the same way Finn could tell Rachel was; it was really weird, in a "this looks like her but sure doesn't act like her" kind of way, but it was better than her acting like herself when appearing to be with some other guy. Finn knew what Rachel's face looked like when she was aroused, he saw it in his dreams and daydreams all the time and he'd seen some of it for real the day before, and that wasn't it. This was cartoonish compared to the real thing, all sharp movements and long lines and emoted to the back of the theater.

And the way it looked like she was being forced around, Sean's hand on her wrist - putting up with that wasn't her, and seeing it made him want to deck Sean for protective reasons rather than jealous ones. Though of course it wasn't really happening like that, Rachel was moving on her own. _It's not really her,_ Finn repeated to himself, using that as an aid to calm himself down. _It just looks like her._Though presumably the real Rachel could move like that now, way more flexible than he remembered. She must have been working very hard on this.

"You seem tense, are you okay?" Emily asked him once the number was over and they were applauding.

"Yeah, I guess, it just feels weird," he admitted.

"It is unsettling," she agreed. "No matter how often I see Sean playing a character, it always seems like an imposter." She shuddered a little. "And acting like that, almost violent, it's so not him."

"Not Rachel either. She'd hate that sort of thing."

"Sean says choreographers like to push limits, and the ones here like to throw the freshman class into the adult deep end."

"Fun." Finn rolled his eyes, then went silent as the next number started.

Rachel didn't come out again until the end of the first half, as part of a group singing "Seasons of Love" with some choreography. Finn's heart thumped as he heard her; she was clearly doing her best to blend with the others when they sang together, but it was her voice, and he'd hear it through anything, he was sure.

People milled around at intermission, but after stretching his legs for a few minutes Finn went back to his seat, nodding at Emily. He wondered if he should start talking to her again, but he was uncertain what to say. She knew who he was, but he didn't know what that meant. Fortunately after a minute of Finn staring at the curtain and Emily looking at her lap, she turned to him.

"I realize you're probably wondering how much I know about you," Emily said.

Finn nodded. "Yeah."

"I do know some things, Rachel told Sean and Sean told me. I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"Well you're talking to me and not glaring at me, so it can't be that bad," Finn replied, wincing as he tried to make a joke out of it.

Emily smiled. "It's not." But her face became serious. "You should know I know about the train."

"Ah."

"It sounds very romantic, actually," she offered. "Like something from a romantic or gothic novel, the dashing hero freeing his love to find her destiny while he goes off seeking his. A great romantic sacrifice."

Finn was taken a little aback at this; he'd become used to people telling him he'd been an idiot. He smiled sheepishly. "I don't know about 'dashing hero', but that was kind of what I had in mind, I guess. I overlooked some key things, though."

"Some things work much better in a novel than out of one, or are things we'd never want to have happen. Most gothic and romantic novels would be dreadful to actually live through. Like _Wuthering Heights._"

"I never read anything like that."

Emily flushed, a little embarrassed. "I suppose not," she said, recovering. "But, anyway, Heathcliff and Catherine, the main couple, they're passionately in love but they're of different stations in life, it's the late 18th century so they can't be together, and they hurt each other very badly. They feel too much, more than they can cope with given the rules of society and of her family, and each of them just can't understand why the other does what he or she does, so they keep hurting each other. And then she dies, but they're still linked together -"

"Tethered," Finn mused. Emily raised her eyebrow.

"I suppose you could call it that. And she haunts him. It's all very romantic."

"But it sucks to be them."

"Yes. And fortunately it's fiction, and anyway we're not in the late 18th century. If we were, I'd probably be doomed to a life as a governess for some rich family and I'd never have met Sean. Or if I did, he'd be the handsome but uneducated estate gamekeeper and we could still never be together." Finn chuckled, and she smiled back, then got a far-away look in her eyes. "Looks of longing, secret trysts in the woods, perhaps a pregnancy that has to be hidden and either ends tragically or results in the child being given up, and we can never be together again..." she stopped, flustered, and blushed. "I study them so it's hard to not get immersed, sorry. Where was I?"

Finn grinned. "That it's fiction and should stay that way."

She nodded. "Yes. Novels like that are rarely all that good for the characters in them, even the ones that end happily are usually after considerable suffering. We can explore these things vicariously and learn from them by reading about them instead of having to endure them."

"Well I can't say as I'm even interested in reading them. Sorry."

"Don't be, they're not for everyone." She eyed him, however. "But if you ever wanted to _write_ one, or at least plot one, from what I've heard you might be a natural. I'm just saying."

_No thanks_, Finn thought, _Not my sort of thing at all._ Though in that case he should try to stay away from acting like that too. That kind of life, that wasn't what he wanted for himself and Rachel, for them to keep hurting each other because they didn't understand each other. And it almost had gone that way - what if Rachel had taken her "freedom" and tried to move on even though she still loved him? "It sounds like you're working on one already," he commented, trying to steer the conversation away from himself. Things had been screwed up enough without worrying about how it could have been so much worse.

Emily giggled a little. "Perhaps I should be."

Then the lights flickered to warn them that it was time for the second half of the show.

* * *

A big set piece with singing and dancing came first, nothing Finn recognized, and while he could see Sean there was no sign of Rachel. But after it was over he found out why; the stage lights dimmed, they heard the steps of someone walking to center stage, and Finn knew it was her even before the spotlight came on to reveal her looking demure in a simple blue dress over a white blouse. Music started, lightly.

"Okay, now I am jealous, since she gets to be Belle," Emily whispered, but Finn barely heard her, raptly watching Rachel.

The music rose, and she started to sing: (*)

_Yes, I made the choice, for papa, I will stay_  
_But I don't deserve to to lose my freedom in this way_  
_You monster!_  
_If you think that what you've done is right, well then_  
_You're a fool! Think again!_

Finn winced and wondered if that was at some point meant for him.

_Is this home? Is this where I should learn to be happy?_  
_Never dreamed that a home could be dark and cold_  
_I was told_  
_Ev'ry day in my childhood:_  
_Even when we grow old_  
_Home should be where the heart is_  
_Never were words so true!_  
_My heart's far, far away_  
_Home is too_

Rachel had been projecting herself to the full theater, but right after "home should be where the heart is" she looked straight at Finn, meeting his eyes for a second. She looked out again, and around the full front of the stage.

_Is this home? Is this what I must learn to believe in?_  
_Try to find something good in this tragic place_  
_Just in case_  
_I should stay here forever_  
_Held in this empty space_  
_Oh, that won't be easy_  
_I know the reason why_  
_My heart's far, far away_  
_Home's alike_

Her singing and the emotion she poured into it were electrifying the audience and the air itself. She projected the agony and loneliness of the song, tears flowing down.

_What I'd give to return to the life that I knew lately_  
_And to think I complained of that dull provincial town_

_Lima,_ Finn thought. _Like she felt when I sent her here without me. _The music slowed and swelled, and Rachel's voice soared. The projected pain gradually turned to determination, strength, and building triumph.

_Is this home? Am I here for a day or forever?_  
_Shut away from the world until who knows when_  
_Oh, but then_  
_As my life has been altered once_  
_It can change again_  
_Build higher walls around me_  
_Change ev'ry lock and key_  
_Nothing lasts, nothing holds_  
_All of me_

Her voice became soft, tender, and she sought his eyes again briefly.

_My heart's far, far away_  
_Home and free!_

Her last long-held note was soft, not the belting out she would do of old, but high and pure. She faded it out to nothing, and the audience rose to its feet to applaud. And they stayed there, as she bowed and walked off, then came back for another bow. Finn beamed at her, proud of her but also happy, feeling uplifted and even blissful at the sense of her voice enveloping him. That was part of his home.

The rest of the second half was good but couldn't grab him the way that Rachel had, even the big finale that she was in. Everyone was in red, and it reminded him of the red shirts they'd worn that first time they'd sung "Don't Stop" together. He really wanted to sing with Rachel again.

* * *

Finn and Emily talked a little more as they waited in the theatre lobby. Sean joined them first, giving Emily a kiss and wrapping himself around her, but despite Finn insisting that he could wait alone for Rachel they stayed with him until she finally came out.

She was beautiful, definitely his Rachel again, the stage makeup gone, looking natural and very appealing in a navy blue dress that set off her skin and hair. She leaned up to give him a kiss, her hand entwining with his.

They all congratulated her on her solo, and she briefly chatted with Emily, but the other couple soon excused themselves and said they'd see them later at the party. _No prizes for guessing where they're headed_, Finn thought, feeling a little envious about it but knowing that it had been at least a couple of weeks since Sean and Emily had seen each other last. _We'd be no different, if we were at that stage_, he told himself. _Probably wouldn't even have waited around._

"Thank you for the banana bread," he told Rachel as they walked to the neighboring building where the afterparty was being held. "Very much appreciated."

Rachel smiled. "I was happy to make it," she said. "Baking always helps me calm down, and Santana offered me the use of your kitchen." She laughed. "She said any time I feel the need to cook, she's only too happy to not do it herself."

"Or eat my cooking," Finn added.

"She says you've improved a lot. Though I thought you were fine before."

Finn chuckled. "Strange as it may sound, I think part of that is Santana's actually become less picky. Not always more patient, but less picky. Maybe because the alternative is she has to do it herself. I think my mom was the same way, she'd come home after a long shift at the hospital and as long as what I'd made was technically edible she'd go for it." Finn paused, enjoying Rachel's responding smile, but something was bothering him a little about the recital. "So, your solo," he said, getting her attention. "But you didn't want me to come at first?"

"Oh." Rachel sighed a little. Her eyes flicked down to the ground ahead of them for a moment, then she looked back at Finn. "I didn't pick that song by myself," she explained. "At least not completely. They had a large set of them that they asked us to pick some alternatives from, back in September, and they built the program a few weeks ago taking into account who they wanted to do what sort of solo and how to balance the program, it wasn't just about what we wanted. So it wasn't a message." She bit her lip. "Though how I connected with the song at the time did have a lot to do with why it made my list. I had others, with a variety of styles, even happy upbeat ones, I wanted to make it easy for them to give me a solo spot. That was just the one they picked."

Finn rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand that he held, as he gazed at her. "But that was how you felt, in September." _And maybe they could tell._

Rachel nodded. "Yes."

"'You're a fool, think again.'" Finn's expression was sardonic. "I'll cop to that," he said quietly.

"'Home should be where the heart is.'" Rachel quoted back, and Finn tugged her closer to him and kissed her temple.

"Yeah."

* * *

The afterparty was set up in a large wood-paneled room that Rachel told him was currently a lounge but had once been a dining room. Many faculty had come out for the show and were at the party, along with apparently a few guests. "They invite a few industry people," Rachel told him. And presumably that was the reason the bar in the corner served alcohol, despite most of the people in attendance being underage college students.

After checking their coats, Finn lined up at the bar to get himself a soda and Rachel a sparkling water. He nodded at the man ahead of him in line for the bar, who had turned as he felt someone stand behind him.

The man, older, nodded back, then looked at him again. "You're familiar," he said curiously. "You don't go here, though."

"Uh, no. I'm here with my girl, she was in the show," Finn said, feeling a little uncomfortable. Plenty of the other students seemed to have dates, though. "Rachel Berry."

"Oh, her. She was really good, lovely tone and excellent phrasing." He smiled and offered his hand. "Alex Stepanopoulos, composer-in-residence. I tend to think of singers as instruments, it's an occupational hazard."

"Finn Hudson," Finn replied, giving Alex's hand a shake.

Alex snapped his fingers. "Now I remember you, you drum for that eighties band, right? _Dance Hall Daze_?"

"Uh, yeah," Finn said, a smile starting. "You've seen us, huh?"

"Yes, a couple of times so far. I'm working on an eighties-era musical right now, think _Rock of Ages_ but a little more poppy, with original songs and a better plot. I sometimes need to immerse myself into the style, you just don't get the same effect listening to recorded music than you do from a live band."

"That keeps us in business," Finn said, something he'd often heard from Irene. "Hey, if there's anything you'd like to hear, we take requests, just give us a little warning." And he had those cards Irene had made up, didn't he? She insisted they all have some in their wallets. Finn brought his wallet out and dug out one of the band's cards, passing it over. "Our contact email's on here."

Alex gave the card a glance and put it away. "Okay, thanks. I'll keep it in mind. You guys aren't bad."

Finn was nonplussed by the faint praise, but what did he expect from a composer who was around top talent all the time, he figured. The musical idea sounded good, anyway, it could tap into the same market that the band did. He swallowed and nodded in acknowledgement. "Thanks. Good to meet you."

The man turned away as it was his turn to order, two bottles of some beer Finn had never seen before.

"It's good beer, locally made," the man said, seeing Finn's look. He chuckled. "I lobbied for them to start carrying it so I'd better order it now that they have it. And I do recommend it, if you like beer with some substance and flavor." The man's tone implied that he should.

"Uh, thanks, but I'm not drinking," Finn stammered, and the guy looked suddenly apologetic. Finn cast a quick glance around the room, and the students did seem to have mostly soft drinks and water, so it wasn't the kind of party where the drinking age was ignored. And there was a sign on the bar. He shrugged mentally and ordered and paid for his ginger ale and Rachel's sparkling water.

* * *

Finn returned to Rachel, who was talking to a few classmates and two men who's attitudes suggested that they were industry people. Not really wanting to break into the specialized discussion, and needing a break, he passed her both drinks and excused himself to go to the men's room around the corner.

On his way back he lingered looking at the pictures in the hall of former productions and some of the stars that had been "in residence" at NYADA over the years. Some talking coming from around the corner, a woman and a man, indicated that he wasn't alone in lingering in the cooler hall instead of the warmer lounge. But then a question caught his attention.

"Who's that tall guy in the black?" The woman asked, and that sounded like she was asking about him. "You were talking to him earlier, but he's not one of our students."

"Boyfriend of one of the freshmen girls," the reply came, and it was the dude he'd talked to before, Alex Step-something. The composer. _Have to get better at remembering names..._ "He's a drummer with a bar band."

"So much for the thought that we're working them too hard, if they can meet people like that," the woman laughed. "Unless it's Marcy." They sounded like they were moving away, much to Finn's relief; he didn't want them to turn the corner and realize that he'd heard them. But "people like that"? _What's that supposed to mean?_

"No, Rachel actually."

"Rachel, that small girl from Ohio? Really?" The woman sounded shocked. "Huh. Wouldn't have thought it of her." _What the hell?_

"Yeah, I was surprised too, I've seen the band and apparently it's been going for a few years. Seems like a nice guy though."

"Well her work is excellent so I guess it's so far so good. But it's always a little scary seeing what the young wide-eyed girls like her can fall into sometimes, when they get to the big city, and how she'd meet a bar band drummer is beyond me. She looks like if she ever went into a bar she'd go catatonic."

"Well the man doesn't drink, make of that what you will. Maybe they met some other way. Come on, let's head back in."

_You have no idea_, Finn thought, grateful that they were going back into the lounge. He slowly followed them, waiting to see that they'd moved far away before he re-entered the room. He was frowning as he came in, trying to ignore the way what they said made him feel, that even though he was doing okay Rachel was still out of his league. But the last of the woman's words finally fully registered and sank in, and then even though it was hard to make sense of it he almost had to laugh.

It wasn't that they thought he wasn't good enough for Rachel - they thought he was too _old_ for her, maybe even too experienced in some ways. They knew he played in a bar with a band who'd been doing it for a while; they didn't know he was a replacement for the previous drummer, and the man had probably assumed he was about the same age as the others in the band. And they certainly didn't know how long he'd known Rachel, or that he was new to "the big city" himself.

Finn wasn't sure what to make of the fact that they thought he looked about twenty-four or so and comfortable in New York, but it couldn't hurt the development of his career, he supposed. Better than being treated like a kid or a Midwest hick. And he was wearing one of the shirts Santana called his responsible adult costume, maybe a little overdressed for the student party. He really hoped he didn't come across like some louche bar musician out to take advantage of a young naive girl from the sticks, however, even though that was apparently what the woman had been worried about. He should certainly look much better than that, his shirt was even Kurt-approved. The composer had commented about him not drinking - not true, of course, Finn just didn't drink in public - maybe he'd thought Finn was an alcoholic or confirmed non-drinker instead of an underaged musician who needed bars to trust him not to screw up their liquor license. He shook his head, bemused at the whole thing.

"Is everything okay, Finn?" Rachel's voice broke into his thoughts as she came up to him near the door, handing him back his now slightly flat ginger ale. "Your expression looks a little odd."

He looked down at her and gave her a smile. "Just overheard a couple of the professors talking about me," he admitted. "They're concerned, apparently."

"Really?" Rachel became outraged. "Why would they -" But he broke in, giving her a big smile and catching her hand to calm her down.

"Rach, it's fine. It's kind of funny actually, they think I'm robbing the cradle and they're worried I'm going to corrupt you." He sipped at his drink.

Rachel stared up at him, completely dumbfounded. It took a few moments for the scenario to sink in, then her laughter bubbled out, Finn joining her. "Well you are a _little_ older than me, I suppose," she said. "And you look very sharp tonight. _Very_ manly. But robbing the cradle? Just how young do they think I am?"

"It's more like how old do they think I am. One dude, the composer, we talked at the bar, he's seen the band recently and he knows it's been going for a few years." Finn shrugged, still chuckling. He'd had this a little before - he'd had his growth spurt early and had been mistaken for an older teenager even back in middle school - though he hadn't been expecting it now that his age had caught up more with his height.

"So they think I came to New York, all innocent, and then fell in with this musician," Rachel said, nodding as she spoke. She giggled. "I wonder what they'd say if they heard that the first time you kissed me I was _fourteen_."

Finn snorted. "As long as they don't think you're still fourteen. I could get arrested."

"Mistakenly. We'd clear it up in no time." But Rachel pouted. "Though while I like knowing I could have a long career as an ingenue, I don't want a little-girl image."

"After that dance routine, I don't think there's much chance of that," Finn commented. "And you look great, Rach."

"You do know that routine was all just acting, right?"

"Yeah. For one thing," he said, leaning down to her ear, "I know what you really look like when you're turned on," he murmured huskily. Rachel blushed, then gave him a short intense look.

"Well, mister musician, maybe if I keep spending time with you I'll grow up a little more," she simpered, her voice breathy.

Finn waggled his eyebrows a little. "Keep dropping by the bar, who knows what sort of people you'll meet there."

Rachel laughed, her natural demeanor returning. "It's actually a very classy bar. If the man's been there he should know that. And your band's attitude is quite professional."

"Were you impressed?"

"I was. It's also a good thing you don't drink there, the prices are insanely high, even the posted specials."

"Financial district," Finn commented, but the mention of drinking reminded him of something else. "Oh, and they _might_ think I'm a recovering alcoholic or anti-alcohol, since I'm not drinking," he admitted, which brought a fresh peal of laughter from Rachel. He listened, enjoying the sound of it.

"So you were talking to a composer at the bar? Was this Alex Stepanopoulos?"

"Uh, the composer-in-residence, he said. Yes." Finn smiled. "He said you were really good." Rachel beamed at hearing this. "He came to see the band a couple of times, the style's something he's doing for a musical he's working on apparently."

Rachel suddenly became very excited. "Really? Oh that's wonderful. And meeting up with a composer who's working on your kind of music, who knows where this might lead."

"Well I did give him the band's contact info, if he has requests or something," Finn said, a bit uncomfortable with how Rachel was viewing it. "I don't know, it's a bit of a connection I guess, I just..."

"You want it to be about merit instead," Rachel completed, looking at him searchingly.

"Yeah."

She shook her head, smiling in disbelief. "Finn, everyone has connections, that's how we meet people, and trust people, and learn about things," she said. "That's why we have parties like this." She gestured to indicate the room. "You came to New York with basically zero connections to the arts scene, you're at such a disadvantage. Having a few connections come your way, that's just you finally starting to get what you deserve. People that grew up here with families involved in the arts, they have so much more before they do anything at all."

"But I wouldn't want to have that... not that there's anything wrong with it, but..." Finn struggled to explain himself.

"You wouldn't wish away what you had. I know."

Finn looked at her quizzically. "How do you know?"

She gave him an odd smile. "I had times as a child when I was teased mercilessly for having two dads. I'd wish away the teasing, and I always wished I'd _known_ my birth mother, but I wouldn't wish away either of my dads. Even when I'm mad at them." She touched his arm. "Just like you wish you'd had your dad, but you'd never regret your mom or the life you had growing up."

Finn took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Yeah, it's like that," he agreed softly. "Mom had to work all the time, and we didn't have much, but - I wouldn't change it for anything, except to add my dad."

"Well you do have the world's best mom. That's certainly an advantage that nobody else has."

"And if I'd grown up here and you didn't, then I wouldn't have met you." He chuckled. "Except maybe if I met you now, 'cause I think that's what those people thought happened."

"I stopped regretting living in Lima once I met you," she replied.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes. I wouldn't trade you for the world, haven't I said that?" She smiled. "So we can be each other's advantages, and if that means you meet people at functions like this, then that's the way it should be. And it's a connection for him too, you did offer to help him out with requests after all."

Finn nodded, absorbing the truth of what Rachel had said. It was like when he'd filled in with the salsa band, he'd gotten the experience and exposure from the gig and he'd been paid, but it was also good for the band because they'd needed someone last-minute, and it made Santana look good too because she'd been able to get a fill-in. Everyone was happy and they'd built some trust. He'd just been thinking that he was maybe helping the composer, and the band as a whole since doing requests was good for them, but it could help him too, and there wasn't anything wrong with that. It didn't mean that he couldn't do things on his own - this was _part_ of doing things on his own.

"So what are you doing talking to me?" he asked.

Rachel's forehead pushed into a cute furrow. "You're my date...?"

"I mean that if this party is to make connections, maybe you should go make some. Mingle."

She gave him a mock pout. "Why yes, mister musician, if you insist. As long as you come with me."

Finn smiled, and let her loop her arm through his. "Okay."

* * *

Rachel brought him around with her to a few groups, mixed students and professors. None of them seemed to be the woman he'd heard talking in the hall, to his relief. After a while, though, he caught sight of Sean and Emily finally arriving and stepped away to encourage them to join in.

On the way back they were waved over by another male student he'd seen in the show, a dark-haired guy about Sean's height. Sean went reluctantly, Finn following, but Emily gave a small sigh and continued on to where Rachel was standing with some of her classmates.

"About time you showed up, Sinclair," the young man said. "You didn't need to be too embarrassed about your performance, glad you came out of hiding eventually."

Finn could see Sean roll his eyes. "You'd be better off keeping your attention on your own performance, Greg," he said, eliciting a grimace from the other student.

"Well it seems congratulations are in order anyway," he said, looking from Sean to Finn. "Greg Galen," he nodded.

"Finn Hudson," Finn replied. He had no idea where this was going, the guy's attitude was seriously flawed.

"I have to hand it to you, Finn, I did not expect to see our Rachel with an honest-to-God date," Greg said snarkily. "Rumor said there was some guy from high school that she was set to pine in vain over forever. Don't know how you got past that or got Sean's approval but I'm impressed."

Finn stared back at Greg, dumbfounded, not sure at all how to respond to that. Especially since the dude's attitude certainly indicated that he'd tried with Rachel and gotten turned down. The whole assumption that he and Rachel had only met recently was suddenly a lot less funny, getting a reaction like that about it.

At his shoulder, though, he heard laughter: Sean cracking up.

"Greg, you fool, Finn here _is_ her guy from high school," Sean said. "So stop wondering how you could have tried differently."

Greg frowned meanly, and shrugged. "Well it was a safe guess, everyone knows these high school things seldom last," he retorted, then seemed to try to be nicer. "Uh, good to see you made it back to her after all."

"I was always coming back to her," Finn said, drawing himself up to his full height and looking intently at the guy that was increasingly starting to remind him of Jesse St. Jackass. Just the sort of predator that Santana had warned him would be after Rachel. Well, Rachel obviously knew better than to fall for that BS now, and he was here so no more talk about "pining in vain".

"Speaking as a proud member of a high school couple trying to make it last - maybe more would if people didn't stick their noses in and talk about how they won't," Sean shot back at Greg, still smiling. "We're happy, watch how it's done, for when you find the right person."

Greg rolled his eyes but nodded curtly and moved away. Finn turned to Sean.

"'Got Sean's approval'?" he asked. "What did he mean by that?"

Sean frowned. "Greg was too pushy with Rachel," he answered, then put his hand on Finn's arm as Finn tensed, close to exploding at hearing that. "Nothing dangerous, just - pushy. Wouldn't take no for an answer, crowded her." He shook his head. "He may not have even noticed he did half of it, but she's small and it doesn't take much."

Finn turned his head, finding Rachel on the other side of the room where she was happily talking to Emily and a girl from the show. "She hates that," he told Sean quietly. "She was bullied a lot in school, before."

"She didn't say. But it's just rude, and I could tell it made her uncomfortable."

"Thank you," Finn said quietly. "For protecting her. I guess I got so used to doing it I forgot that I was, and that she could need it."

"Hey, no problem. She helped me too, when it came to keeping girls off. And I like spending time with her, we can really relate, you know? Once we started talking about you and Emily, especially." He smiled at Emily across the room, and she blushed and smiled back. "Emily really opened up my world too."

"Yeah, Rachel sure did that for me." _Singing with Rachel - better even than listening to her, we should do that again soon. And I'd've never considered music or performing seriously before Rachel._

Sean gave Finn a speculative look. "No, Rachel talked about how _you_ opened up _her_ world." He smiled. "Good to hear it's mutual. That's how these things can last, I think. At least I hope so. Finding Emily was the best thing that ever happened to me, and once that world opens up you don't want to go back."

Finn's mind was scrambling a bit after what Sean had told him Rachel had said; he'd never thought about it that way, or about how Sean put it. But it did go with how Rachel had reacted to him sending her to New York. "Uh... how did you meet Emily, anyway?" he asked, covering a bit. It wouldn't hurt to know more about them, they certainly knew a lot about him.

"She was my English tutor," Sean replied. "I saw her around school, of course, but she was usually in the library and I was so busy with all my song-and-dance extracurriculars that I didn't spend all that much time there. But she was in an advanced English class, I was falling behind in the regular one early in junior year, my parents insisted I get a tutor, and she showed up." He smiled. "I never really got literature, all that imagery and roundabout ways of putting things, until she started explaining them to me. Then... it's just so simple, the way she gets me to see it. And I could listen to her tell me stories all day." He grinned. "It was a bit weird with my folks still paying her, but we stopped that before we went public. Had to, she's wicked conscientious about stuff like that, though she's so cute when she's serious."

Finn thought of the times he'd studied with Rachel, and grinned. "Now _that_ I got too."

"Good evening, gentlemen," a voice intoned behind them, and they turned to see Carmen Thibideaux. "Mister Sinclair, you acquitted yourself well," she said, her attitude detached, the barest ghost of a smile on her lips. "Mister Hudson," she continued, nodding to Finn. "I hope you enjoyed the evening."

"Uh, yes, thank you," Finn answered, surprised that she knew his name, that she'd even ever heard it much less recognized him. "Very much, it was amazing. Can't wait to see what they do when they've been here longer," he babbled on, trying to cover how stunned he was.

Ms. Thibideaux inclined her head to him, acknowledging the compliment to NYADA. But she had noticed his reaction. "Don't be so surprised that I remember you," she said. "You did bring the house down, after all." And without a further glance she was gone, moving on to talk to the next group of people, leaving Finn blinking in shock. _Holy shit. I didn't even know she knew my name in the first place much less that she would remember me from Nationals._

When he was able to focus again, he saw Sean grinning at him. "That's cool. And she's right, I saw the video and you sure know how to get a crowd going."

"Rachel showed you?"

"Sure, she showed me last year's Nationals." That relieved Finn, but Sean continued, winking, and Finn reddened as he realized that wasn't all Sean had seen. "And I looked up the one from the year before. Don't be embarrassed, you wrote a song to get the girl and it worked. Great idea too, I'm stealing it and working on a song for Em. I'd take some pointers, if you've got any."

"Uh, sure, happy to help," Finn responded. "Rachel's the one who started us on writing our own stuff, though, so you should ask her too."

"Maybe when I've got something," Sean shrugged. He yawned, trying to suppress it. "Let's go join our girls."

* * *

The party wound down about half an hour later, and Finn slowly walked Rachel back to the dorms. They started hand-in-hand, but after a few steps Rachel brought his arm up over her shoulder, and he smiled and let it hang loosely there as they walked. It had been a good night, he felt much more comfortable in what he'd thought of as "Rachel's World" than he had ever expected.

They stopped at the entrance to the dorm building, Rachel turned to him, and they moved together into a deep kiss. As their lips parted Finn lowered his arms around her, but though she sank into him for a moment or two he soon felt her stiffen and pull back.

She looked up at him, stricken. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Rach. Really." He would have known it was a problem, if he'd thought about it before trying it. It had just been such a good night, it was late, and his natural reflexes had taken over. As apparently had hers.

"It's not. I don't want to tense up, really I don't," Rachel protested, tears in her eyes.

"Hey," Finn interjected, and he cradled her face in his hand, tilting it up to him. "Stop, please. You've cried enough tears over me, you don't need to fight yourself on this. You feel what you feel, right?"

"But -"

"I'm not going anywhere. We need to take our time and get things right, and if you're not comfortable yet then you're not and we can take our time on that too." Though yes it sucked, but he could tell it sucked for her too, so if she needed him to keep trying then he would. He could tell how much she wanted it, if anything it hurt more to see her torn like this and know that it was because of him. And it had been a good night, he didn't want to lose that.

He bent his head to her for another kiss, his lips apart, letting her set the pace. And he was rewarded by her hands pressing on his face, holding him still as her tongue delved into his mouth and slid over his own. He moaned at that touch, resisting the compulsion to draw her to him, just letting himself feel what she made him feel. Accepting what she gave him, and showing how much he wanted her.

Okay, maybe not _all_ of how much he wanted her. Finn leaned back, and he pulled his mind out of the sensations flooding him and back to his old memory of the mailman; he had a long subway ride ahead of him and these were good pants.

Rachel saw the pinched look on his face and gave him a bright smile, her face showing her own arousal. "Guess I still have that effect on you."

Finn calmed himself down, at least enough. "Always have, always will."

"Same here. You bring me to life in ways nobody else ever could."

And Finn looked into her eyes, and he could feel the truth of that and start to understand it a little. Even though it still seemed so strange, that he could be that for someone as wonderful as Rachel. But maybe that was all part of the him he hadn't known he was, the guy who the composer had recognized from coming to see the band, and who one of the biggest people in musical theater education had remembered from Nationals. If that was him... he liked it.

He gave Rachel a last light kiss goodnight, watched her go into the building, and once she was out of sight he finally turned and walked back to the subway.

* * *

_* "Home", from Beauty and The Beast: The Broadway Musical, lyrics by Tim Rice._

_The idea of a composer-in-residence at NYADA is inspired by NYADA's composer program in OmniHelix's fic (Integration, And The Horse You Rode In On)._

* * *

_Please review!_


	13. Sing, Sing, Sing

_A/N: there's a little "Makeover" commentary bleeding into this one.  
The chapter title refers to the big band classic by that name.  
_

* * *

The next day Rachel took a survey of the clothes in her small dorm closet. The holidays were coming so she'd be doing more different things, even going to a party that Finn's bandmates were throwing, and she needed to take a look at what she had. She had a little money to add some new items, but she had to be careful.

Her dads had sent her some more of her winter clothes, and the boxes had arrived a few days ago. They looked different compared to the newer things she'd bought with Kurt, but in all the integration wasn't bad. They'd followed her requests, for the most part, in what she'd wanted. They were trying, she supposed.

In the corner of the closet were a few items seldom worn, some not at all; some overly-fashionable pieces Kurt had pressed on her during their shopping trip. Shorts, blouses, a pair of skinny jeans she'd worn twice but didn't feel comfortable in, a tight off-the-shoulder minidress in fire-engine red that she had never dared wear - all she'd been able to think when she'd tried it on was that maybe Finn wouldn't have left her if she'd looked like that, so she'd numbly let Kurt insist that she get it.

She was glad she didn't have too much like that, Kurt having mostly restrained himself and gone for evolution rather than revolution or re-invention. At the time, feeling so lost and unloved, she would probably have gone for anything he'd pushed. Hard to hold the line on who you are when it seems nobody wants you that way, she knew that firsthand. It would have been so easy to wall up her brokenhearted self and be someone else instead. She'd certainly been strongly tempted, especially when she'd been at the point where all she'd been able to do was cry. She'd managed to break out of her despair, with Kurt's help, but she'd somehow stayed herself instead of hiding herself and her feelings away.

Still, there were a few items like this where Kurt had given into his urge to dress her like a doll, as if to remake her, and she'd let him. But not many.

And there was one part of her that she had needed to wall up, or at least box away, sitting in the bottom of her closet. It was behind her rack of shoes, hidden from view; she knew it was there but at least it wasn't a constant reminder of the forever she'd been convinced to dare to want but had had ripped away.

_"I'm not going anywhere," he said. I know he means that. But he meant it before, too._

She hated that she'd tensed up in Finn's arms, the home she missed more than anything. It was just so hard to not wonder how long it would last, worry whether he was sure enough of himself and them that she could trust he'd stay there. And their physical reaction to each other - she'd wanted him to take her up against the wall, that's how much he'd turned her on. But they hadn't been like that before, they mustn't now, it would break her heart completely to have their relationship twist into something more carnal than emotional. It'd break his as well.

Time. It was going to take time. And they'd had a good night, Finn had been relaxed, happy, even joking with her about what he'd overheard the professors say about him. This was hard - but the path was open now, a way to the future they both wanted. Together. They just needed to walk it, even if they wanted to run.

* * *

Rachel had a vocal exam on her birthday, December 18th, but afterwards Finn met her and took her to a Jewish deli on Ninth that he'd heard about from Scott. It was a nice place, apparently now being run by its third generation of Goldmans, a pleasant merge of traditional and modern with a wide range of menu options.

She'd heard from her fathers earlier that day, wishing her a happy birthday and all the best for her examination. They had confined their conversation to that; she'd been quite adamant about staying in New York over the holidays and she supposed they didn't want to bring it up again, not on her birthday. She had thanked them silently for their restraint.

After dinner she and Finn lingered, sharing a dessert, and Finn brought out a wrapped flat box and put it between them on the table.

"So... I noticed you haven't been wearing a necklace recently," Finn said hesitatingly. "You always used to, so I thought maybe... you just needed a new one." She could tell he was nervous, looking from the box up to her face and back, over and over. "There's a waitress at the diner who makes jewellery, so I got her to make this for you." He slid the box the last few inches across the table to her.

She smiled at him brightly and opened the box, finding a silver chain with large links, with some charms suspended from it: a pair of eighth notes and a quarter note, turquoise notes with silver stems. She swallowed. "It's beautiful," she said, meeting his eyes sincerely. "It's very lovely, Finn, and so thoughtful. Thank you. Can you put it on me please?"

He rose and came up beside her, and she held her hair up and turned away so he could fasten the chain around her neck. It settled just below her throat as if it had always belonged there.

"You were right," she admitted once it was fastened. She turned back to him as he sat down again. "About my not wearing them, there was just... just too much tied up in the old ones." Her old "Finn" necklace, it meant so much to her but she was uncertain what sort of message it would send him. And her apple necklace for New York that she'd worn last spring - at times since then she had worried that it had influenced his decision to send her away from him, that somehow her wearing it instead of his name had hurt him and made him think that it reflected what was more important to her. But this was good, this was starting again, and the musical notes were so right for them. She could wish it reflected him as well, not just her, but that he'd thought of it and had it made for her touched her so much.

"There's a little more," he said softly, sitting back down. She glanced at him curiously, then moved the foam in the box aside; under it was a small bag containing a single eighth note, this one with an opal. Finn's birthstone. "I just thought... maybe you'd want to wear it sometime..." His face and voice, so full of love for her, yet so uncertain. Yet it was just what she thought it needed.

Rachel rose in a sudden surge and cupped his face in her hands, looking deeply into his light brown eyes. "I love it," she said, her voice choked with emotion, with such love for this sweet boy who could always touch her heart so simply. She leaned forward. "I love _you_," she got out just before pressing her lips on his, kissing him passionately. She touched her forehead to his. "Oh Finn, it's perfect." She kissed him again, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"Happy Birthday, Rach."

* * *

A few days later, her exams over, Rachel waited by the side of the road for Finn to come by. That night was the party at Daryl and Irene's place; they would be out quite late, so Finn had chosen to drive.

She smiled to see the old familiar truck pull up, and she gave him a kiss as he helped her up into the passenger seat.

"Shorts?" Finn seemed a bit thrown by what she was wearing. Of course he couldn't see under her coat yet. He resettled himself in the driver's seat and pulled away from the curb.

"They're very _in_," she explained, getting self-conscious. She just didn't want to seem too provincial, too little-girl. The "naive girl with older musician" scenario that Finn had overheard at the NYADA afterparty still stung.

Finn still looked skeptical. "It's a house party. Mostly local musicians, a few other people Daryl and Irene know, they probably don't care so much about that. Even in New York. Though don't get me wrong, you look great, just - different. You don't need to try so hard, that's all."

"They mean I can lean over or sit on a couch without worrying about anyone seeing too much, unlike in a skirt."

Finn grinned. "Now _that_ I can go for." He glanced at her again, seeing the black tank and loose thin plaid blouse she wore under her now open coat, and nodded in appreciation.

Daryl and Irene lived in a small house in Staten Island; Finn explained that their day jobs were as freelance software designers, they had lucked into a successful startup company about two years before and had made enough from a corporate buyout to have a decent down payment.

"So music is more of a sideline for them then," Rachel commented.

"It seems that way," Finn agreed. "If it really took off they'd go for it, they keep their jobs really flexible, but yeah they're not dependent on it."

"And Scott?"

"Scott's more interested in making a full go of music as a career, I think. But they all know a lot of local musicians, Daryl said there should be a lot of playing tonight."

There was certainly no mistaking the house, what with the cars crammed together on the street and the live sounds of electric guitars coming from within. Finn parked down the block and they walked along to the party, Finn carrying a large container of snack food, bought cheap from the tapas bar where Santana worked. Rachel felt awkward at not having a contribution, she always used to bring food, but she couldn't prepare anything in the dorms.

Finn opened the front door of the house and showed Rachel inside; a moment later Irene came to take the food from him.

_Early in the evenin' just about supper time_ (*)

"Hey, drummer boy," Daryl called out from the front room as Finn hung his and Rachel's coats up. "Get your ass in here and find something to hit, we need a beat."

Rachel waved him in, happy to hear him so wanted, and turned to say hello to Irene.

"I'm so glad you came, Rachel," Irene said, showing her where she could change her shoes. "Don't worry about where you put your boots, we're all pretty casual here. The jam's just starting; feel free to sing along whenever you like, even use my keyboard if you want, I set up the cheap one."

"Don't the neighbors mind the noise?" Rachel asked.

"Most of them are here," Irene replied. "Those that aren't were warned, and we don't do this here all that often. We'll knock the music off before it gets too late."

* * *

A while later...

_Take me down to the paradise city, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty_ (**)

_This one sounds better when someone can actually sing_, Rachel mused as she went into the kitchen, helping out by clearing away some of the empty plates that had been in the front room. Movement behind her caught her attention, a dark-haired man of about six feet who was a new arrival.

"Hey there sweetheart," the man said. "While you're over there, can you pass me a beer?" He smiled, a little ingratiatingly. "Please?"

She bent down and opened the left cooler, took the first beer that came to hand, and passed him the can.

"Not this, the good stuff," he protested, passing it back to her. "A bottle of the Winter Ale, Daryl always has some at this time of year." Rachel sighed to herself and went into the cooler again, having to dig deep to find what the man was asking for. Her fingers found a bottle, and once she brought it up she was relieved when the label said "Winter". Sure the guy was being selective, but from his attitude she was quite sure a good part of this, getting her to dig it out for him, was so he could look at her ass while she did it. She straightened, the bottle in her hand, and turned to find him right in front of her.

"He usually has the chocolate stuff too, that'd be good for a sweet girl like you." He was too close, hemming her in as he smiled down at her flirtatiously.

"I'll stick to what I'm having, thanks," Rachel replied, her tone curt. She smiled a little, not wanting to be rude, but more detached, almost professional. She'd found it easier simply to refuse offers and avoid explaining not drinking. "Things are chaotic enough around here." She was uncomfortable, but not enough to call for Finn.

"It's music, baby," he said, laying on the flirt even more. "I'm Tyler. Can you guess what I play?"

_Are you kidding me? Does this work on **anyone**?_ But it was a potential exit, and she went for it. "Let me see..." Rachel took the opportunity to step around him, getting some space, her back now to the doorway to the hall. She could get away now and she didn't want to make a scene, so she considered his question. She gave him a quick once-over and noticed some tell-tale marks on his fingers, not on the tips. "You're a drummer," she replied, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Very good, not everyone can tell. You must like drummers."

"Singular, not plural," she stated. "Drummer. A specific drummer." She paused. "Who isn't you." She had a hard time being that direct, but the hint was rather deliberately not being taken.

"Ah. Well once you've had a drummer -"

"Everything okay, babe?" Rachel relaxed at the question as Finn came up behind her, his hand finding her waist in a gesture both protective and possessive.

"It's fine, Finn." She turned her face up to him with a smile.

Tyler had been turning away, having finally gotten the message, but he froze and turned back. "You're _Finn_?" he asked, making eye contact with Finn.

"Yep."

Tyler grinned. "Tyler," he said, gesturing to himself. "How's life with _Dance Hall Daze_?"

"Uh, it's good," Finn replied, clearly surprised at finding who this was - the drummer he'd replaced, apparently. She could feel him ease next to her. "The band's doing really well, and I'm enjoying it. They're good people."

"The best. Uh, except for my new band, of course. _Shock the Monkey_, tell your friends."

"I thought Scott said you were called _Demon Handed_."

"Changed it, too much of a turnoff apparently. Plus it made people think it was Damien's band." He shrugged. "But then we got another set of gigs under the new name, so it's all good. Kickass stuff, we're really going to go somewhere with this." He looked from Finn to Rachel and back again. "Really gets our testosterone going and we can let it _all_ hang out."

Rachel sighed internally at the string of cliches, and at the inflection on the "all". She didn't think this would do anything for her even if she wasn't right next to the love of her life - every association she had with that kind of music was due to Finn, and so it was completely tied up with him. She liked how it got him going, because he was Finn and she loved seeing him come alive, but anyone else just left her cold.

"I'm glad to hear it's working out," Finn said. "And thank you very much for passing my name along."

"If you really want to thank me, I think we could do a deal," Tyler said, shooting Rachel a leer.

Rachel tensed, and Finn stiffened and frowned. "Not cool," he said, glaring. "Not cool to even hint it."

"Just a joke." Tyler, still cocky, shrugged off the reaction.

"How about we find someone to treat you as some sort of commodity and then you can tell us how funny it is," Rachel replied. The mere suggestion that she was tradeable was offensive. Sure, it was a joke, but it spoke to his attitude.

"Can't say as I'd mind," Tyler said, smirking.

"That's 'cause you'd be thrilled to find anyone who wanted your sorry ass enough to trade for it," another voice interjected, and they looked over to the hall to see Scott. "You making friends, Bonnie?"

_Bonnie?_ For a moment Rachel thought she'd been confused with someone else, but then she saw Tyler wince. _Bonnie Tyler. Right._ She suppressed a smile as Scott stepped into the kitchen to join them.

"I think so," Tyler said. "Good to see you, Scotty, you want me to beam you up a beer?" He held out the bottle in his hand, but Scott waved it off. "My replacement here working out okay?"

Scott nodded in passing at Finn and Rachel, who took the opportunity to step out. Rachel could still hear the conversation go on behind them, though, as they lingered just out of sight, both of them wanting to know how this was getting resolved.

"Steady, reliable, versatile, doesn't hit on random girls... we're torn between wondering why we ever had you and being glad that you stuck with us long enough for him to show up." Scott laughed. "Though thanks for getting us in touch, seriously. Hope your new venture's working out well too."

"It's good so far. Going to be great, I'll think of you when we make it big." Tyler paused. "I'm sorry about just now." He sounded sheepish, but quickly became defensive. "Can't be that big a deal though, right? How long could he have known her?"

_That again,_ Rachel groaned mentally. Tyler apparently was also a fan of the "naive girl and older musician" scenario, but wanted to substitute himself. Finn's hand tightened on her waist as they listened.

"Oh not long, just three years or so," Scott said drily.

"_Shit._" Pause. "I am sorry."

"You've seriously gotta stop ignoring the 'not interested' signals from girls. It's creepy. And it doesn't make guys want to take their girls to go see you play, either. Or invite you to parties. Not every girl who gets within ten feet of a musician is a potential groupie."

This guy seemed to have a history, Rachel noticed, though at least he had the self-awareness to be sorry he'd been an ass once it was shoved in his face. There were jackasses everywhere. At least this one was another drummer so Finn shouldn't be in the position of having to work with him. Scott, who he did work with, seemed like a good guy. At this Rachel decided to move back to the front room, Finn going with her. She was glad they'd avoided any drama.

* * *

_Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove_ (***)

The party was in full swing - a little booze, mostly beer, and by the smell of it a joint was being passed around, but mostly they concentrated on the music.

_If you start me up, if you start me up I'll never stop_ (****)

Somewhere in the middle of "Start Me Up" a couple of blond guys arrived, one with a keyboard, one carrying a blender and a bag of frozen juice.

"Hey Fish," Daryl called out to the one with the keyboard, who had scraggly shoulder-length hair. "Let us finish this one and we'll give you some space for your gear."

The other guy just headed for the kitchen, and a few minutes later margaritas started coming out.

"These are good, if you're so inclined," Irene said to Rachel in the hall, sipping hers. "They're legit, not too much booze."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm okay. I don't want Finn to have to worry." She caught Irene's raised eyebrow. "My tolerance is rather low," she explained. "He's having such a good time," she went on, gesturing at the front room, where Finn was happily singing along and tapping empty beer bottles. "I don't want to ruin it by turning into a mess, or have him think that I might. I get high off the music anyway."

Irene shrugged. "Makes sense. But then don't take a drink from Tyler. There's a few reasons why we weren't all that sorry to lose him, even before your man turned out to work so well with us."

"I've already met Tyler," Rachel said with an eyeroll.

"Yes, well - we invited him for old time's sake. He probably won't stay long, he's not much for singing." She nudged Rachel. "You know, you should join in. Just start singing along, it's what the rest of us do."

Rachel smiled. "I think I will."

They were passed then by Tyler, on his way out. He gave some excuse to Irene, glanced embarrassingly at Rachel, and made his exit.

The music had stopped as the musicians made space for the new keyboard; as they settled down Rachel went in and found a free chair across from where Finn was sitting.

Daryl broke out into a riff on his guitar, and then started singing, the others joining in: (*****)

_I'm outa luck, outa love_  
_Gotta photograph, picture of_  
_Passion killer, you're too much_  
_You're the only one I wanna touch_

Most of the people were singing, and she knew many of the voices were strong, but for her Finn's came through them all. She knew this song, though not well, but she knew that voice best of all. Rachel closed her eyes, just feeling it, feeling music and _Finn_. Finn, Finn's arms that she couldn't quite bear to sink into, that was home. But his voice was home too, and she could feel comfortable sinking into that. Finn's voice was a tangible projection of himself.

_I see your face every time I dream_  
_On every page, every magazine_  
_So wild so free so far from me_  
_You're all I want, my fantasy_

Rachel joined in, not so much with the group as with Finn, singing with him, harmonizing around his voice. And she heard and felt his voice change in reaction, easing a little, entwining with hers and finding their balance.

_Oh, look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown_  
_Oh Oh, look what you've done_

The other voices gradually fell silent, choosing to listen instead, not wanting to intefere with the harmony they heard. The guitars played on.

It wasn't a song with specific sentiment for them, but that didn't matter. The two of them, singing together, instinctively switching between lead and harmony as their voices combined - it was magical. And without touching Finn or even looking at him, she could feel his voice, surrounding her, touching her voice, as if it was an actual physical contact between them. She'd sung with many others, in Glee, at NYADA, but Finn was the only one whose voice felt like it was really touching her.

_Photograph - I don't want your_

Finn held the last note of "photograph" while Rachel filled in the next phrase, trading lead with him.

_Photograph - I don't need your_  
_Photograph - All I've got is your photograph_

He joined her back for the last word, and they held the note together. She opened her eyes to see his fixed on her, his face in a slightly wolfish half-smile. God, how she loved him, nobody else could make her feel like this.

_It's not enough_

And as they sang together, their voices brought meaning out of the song.

_I'd be your lover, if you were there_  
_Put your hurt on me, if you dare_  
_Such a woman, you got style_  
_You make every man feel like a child_

Across the room, their eyes locked. Rachel harmonized as Finn sang to her.

_You got some kinda hold on me_  
_You're all wrapped up in mystery_  
_So wild so free so far from me_  
_You're all I want, my fantasy_

_Oh, Look what you've done to this rock'n'roll clown_  
_Oh Oh, Look what you've done_  
_I gotta have you_

_Photograph - I don't want your_

This time, without even thinking about it much less overtly communicating, Rachel held the long note as Finn continued on.

_Photograph - I don't need your_  
_Photograph - All I've got is a photograph_

_You've gone straight to my head_

They stared at each other, transfixed, as Daryl played the solo.

_Oh, Look what you've done to this rock'n'roll clown_  
_Oh Oh, Look what you've done_  
_I gotta have you_

They finished it off, trading lines back and forth.

_Photograph - I don't want your_  
_Photograph - I don't need your_  
_Photograph - All I've got is a photograph_

_I wanna touch you_

The guitarists faded the song out, then it all went quiet.

"Fuck." That was Fish, the blond keyboardist, who hadn't been playing. "That was like _voice sex_. You two need some privacy here? Not that there is any."

"You've been holding out on us, Finnster," Daryl stated. "Why didn't you tell us you'd sung this?"

Finn flushed. "We hadn't," he half-protested, his eyes still fixed on Rachel. She got up, and he followed her out into the hall as the party continued on behind them.

"Well. What this party needs is some Lynyrd Fucking Skynyrd," the man called Fish called out, and he started playing a few slow chords. He was soon drowned out by protests.

"No!" "No fucking way!" "Not _Freebird_!"

He laughed and changed the song to something more upbeat, a guitar joined in, and they heard a new voice:

_I was cutting the rug, down at a place called The Jug, with a girl named Linda Lu_ (******)

The rest joined in, and away they went.

"That -" Finn cleared his throat. "That was incredible," he said softly.

"It was." She stroked his hand. "That we just did that, too, it_ so_ was."

"That's us."

"Yes." Rachel lowered her head, looking at their joined hands, then looked back up at him. "What you said before, about how we're it for each other - I think that's why. A big part of it."

"Because we can do that."

"Yes. Because we _are_ that."

"Yeah," Finn breathed, and a moment later he gave her hand a tug, all the signal she needed to rise to meet his kiss.

_Don't you ever take that away from me again_, she thought just before she lost herself in his kiss, but she thought better of saying it.

After the kiss broke, they just looked at each other for a moment, communing.

"Do you need us to go soon?" Finn asked. "It's getting late."

"Not by New York standards," Rachel replied. "And you need to stay, jam with these people more."

"Mingle." Finn nodded.

"Yes." She was happy to see that Finn recognized these opportunities, the other musicians here really seemed to like him and how he sang, that was important for him to build his career. They shouldn't leave until they'd exchanged emails or phone numbers with at least a few of them, for whatever reason. And Finn was so likeable, so easy to get along with, she was sure people would want to play with him for that alone. "I'll be fine, I'm not doing anything tomorrow, I can sleep then." She gave him a light shove. "Go join in, you know you want to."

Finn grinned and gave her another kiss, then led her back into the front room and started singing along with the  
group.

"Here, hit this," Daryl said at the next break, and passed Finn an old beat-up metal tray. Some of the others moved aside to give them space, and Finn sat down with the tray on his knee. Daryl started the opening riff for "Smoke on the Water", dismissed the protests from the others at the piece, and Finn began drumming his hands on the tray.

* * *

They were still there a couple of hours later as the party wound down, Finn idly listening to the stories the remaining others told of gigs past, Rachel lying on the couch next to him with her legs over his lap. _The shorts were a good idea,_ she mused to herself, half drifting off with Finn's hand on her leg, above her knee.

He drove her back to the NYADA dorms, pulling over at the curb to say goodnight.

"I had a great time tonight," she told him. "They're fun people."

"Yeah, they are," Finn replied. "And that song..." the corner of his mouth turned up as he gazed at her. "That was magic. You weren't even looking at me for some of it."

"I can feel your voice," Rachel answered softly. "It's like it's actually touching me." She gave him a beaming smile, feeling so happy. "We need to do that more."

"Voice sex?" Finn prompted with a grin, and Rachel blushed.

"Yes. That's not how I would put it, but... yes." _Though it is like that, and we've always been that way._

"All right." Finn took her hand and tugged her to him for a lingering kiss. "Take care, Rach. I'll see you when I get back, save that movie and I'll take you. Love you."

Rachel nodded, kissed him again, then left. She turned once she reached the building door and exchanged a wave with him.

_Voice sex_, she thought as she lay in bed, about to drift off. _Might explain why we feel like we've been intimate from the start._

* * *

_* "Down on the Corner", as performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival, written by John Fogerty.  
** "Paradise City", as performed by Guns N' Roses, written by Slash, Duff McKagan, Izzy Stradlin, Steven Adler, and Axl Rose.  
*** "Black Dog", as performed by Led Zeppelin, written by Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Paul Jones.  
**** "Start Me Up", as performed by the Rolling Stones, written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.  
***** "Photograph", as performed by Def Leppard, written by Steve Clark, Pete Willis, Rick Savage, Joe Elliott, and Robert John "Mutt" Lange.  
****** "Gimme Three Steps", as peformed by Lynyrd Skynyrd, written by Allen Collins and Ronnie Van Zandt.  
_


	14. Where is Home

On December 23 Finn woke early and hit the road to make his way back to Lima. The weather held, and the traffic was relatively light, so he made good time, arriving in time for supper.

It was so good to see his family again, especially his mom. They'd never been away from each other for so long before. He caught up with them a bit over supper and in the evening, hearing Burt talk about DC and Kurt talk about what he'd been up to. Kurt had excellent news, he'd just heard he'd been accepted to the design internship.

Finn was thrilled to hear that Kurt would be New York-bound himself in a few weeks. They hadn't worked out where Kurt would live yet, but he hoped, as did Kurt, that this could include Rachel. He certainly didn't see Kurt being able to fit into the apartment in Brooklyn, or into living with Santana, not if Finn himself was going to still be there and still practice there. The place was just too small.

The next day, Christmas Eve, Finn went around to see a few people, which turned mostly into visiting Mr. Schue. His old teacher was happy to hear how things were going for Finn in New York, though they kept the discussion squarely on Finn, not diverging to Rachel or Santana.

"I always knew you could, Finn," were Mr. Schue's parting words. "I'm so glad you're starting to know that too."

* * *

That evening Finn was lounging in his old room when he heard his mom call him downstairs, there was someone here to see him. He went downstairs quickly, wondering who, then stopped dead at the foot of the stairs. Whoever he thought it might be, he hadn't expected Rachel's dads.

He had to admit to himself it was hard to look at them. The last time he'd talked to them was when he'd told them all about his plan to send Rachel to New York, the three men she loved and trusted most conspiring to break her heart. He hated remembering it. He also knew that they were the only two people he'd told the full plan. Everyone else had just known to come to see Rachel off at the station, they hadn't known he was sending her away against her will without warning or that he was planning to join the army. And when they had known, afterwards, they'd done their best to bring him to his senses.

LeRoy and Hiram Berry, on the other hand, had known all about his plan that would smash Rachel's heart into a million pieces, and they either hadn't realized that it would or hadn't cared. Why would they, it was the payoff to their hurry-up wedding plan to scare himself and Rachel apart. Maybe he and Rachel would have listened to a more long-term plan, maybe not - but what Finn now thought was the right thing to do was something they could have done, even while continuing the engagement, if the big wedding push hadn't been started by those men.

Yeah, it had still been his idea to send her away, his big plan, he'd done it and he'd have to live with that forever. But he couldn't feel good about how these two men had manipulated him and tried to covertly control Rachel's life. They'd really played him.

He nodded at them, uncertain what to say. Not really having anything _to_ say.

"Where's Rachel, Finn?" LeRoy asked, skipping any attempt at pleasantries.

"NYADA," Finn answered, a bit sullenly. "Isn't that where we all decided she should be?"

"Why won't she come home?" LeRoy continued, demanding.

"Did you ask her? Because it's got to be something really big to keep her in those dorms, she hates living there." He paused. "Did you know that? No space, no privacy, no kitchen." Finn sighed, seeing them still looking at him for an answer. "If she won't come home it's because she doesn't feel it is home. Or she doesn't want it to. Something like that."

"You seem to have patched things up with her," LeRoy commented, his tone still harsh.

"Nowhere near enough. We're not picking things up, we're starting over, and I know she doesn't trust me again yet. But it's a start, and we're trying." He shook his head. "After what we did, you can't just expect her to come back and pretend that everything's the way it was. It'd kill her soul to be fake that way, and how do you not get that about her?" _Even I knew that much, once I'd pushed her away I couldn't just pull her back._

The two men frowned, absorbing what Finn had said.

Finally LeRoy spoke again. "All we did was to take care of her future. That's our job."

_Was 'take care of her future' something that needed you to split us up?_ Finn wondered to himself. Though he could understand how the engagement has spooked them, the way they'd chosen to handle it, over a long time too, had been so wrong. And deep down Finn knew he resented the two men for manipulating him, hating himself for letting it happen, being weak and gullible and falling for what they had been doing, even worse that he'd ended up doing what they'd wanted all along. Rachel had fallen for it too, but the manipulation hadn't been effective on her aside from speeding up the wedding. They'd wanted her to be scared by it and pull away from him, and she hadn't been, she hadn't wavered from her love for him despite all that had happened in the spring. Despite everything.

_Take care of her future, huh?_ "That's one word too long," he muttered, drawing stares from the Berry men. "Take care of her future," he repeated back to them. He snorted in a rueful laugh. "'Cause I think she's got it, she's Rachel Berry and she's always known what she wants, at least as long as I've known her. And she's got the talent and the drive, for anything. What she needs is people to take care of _her_." As he said it, he knew how true it was, Rachel had always had more drive to succeed than anyone he'd ever known. What she hadn't had much of was love, she needed them for that and they'd failed her, all three of them. Finn thought about the picture he had by his bed at the apartment in Brooklyn, of the two of them during their King and Queen dance at prom; her head on his chest, his arms around her, and she looked so happy and safe and loved. Which she had been then, and that's the way they should have stayed forever. It hurt so much that when he went to wrap his arms around her now, hold her like he had so much through senior year, she pulled away, and he knew that it wasn't because she didn't want it, it was because she didn't feel it. She didn't feel that trust and happiness and security in his arms right now, she didn't at home either, and though this meant he could empathize with her dads he at least knew and accepted that he couldn't expect that of her.

Still hurt like hell. Would for them too. And for her, because where could she get that from now? He knew she still felt at least a bit lost.

"How can we see her?" Hiram, this time, pain evident in his voice.

Finn shrugged. "Go to where she is. That's what worked for me."

"We should go to New York?" LeRoy didn't seem to like this, though Finn couldn't see why - he knew the two men travelled a lot, if they could do that for business then why couldn't they do that for Rachel?

"Let her be in control," he explained. He didn't feel like doing them any favors, but he knew Rachel did want to mend her relationship with her dads, just on her own terms. She'd said so. "And if you ever want her to trust you again, you could start by trusting her. Trust her with herself."

"It is her life, LeRoy," Hiram said, his voice resigned. "And she's eighteen now."

"Hm." LeRoy gave a soft grunt, then looked intently at Finn. "Thank you," he said, still frowning but looking less grim.

"Please understand we didn't mean for it to happen like this," Hiram added. "For either of you. And we are glad that nothing happened to you." He winced. "Nothing else, I mean. Thank you for still being there for Rachel."

The two men left, and Finn went back upstairs.

Lying on his bed, he decided he should tell Rachel about this, give her a warning that her dads were probably going to come to see her, and make sure he didn't accidentally mess with her life behind her back again.

He gave her a call, and was happy when she answered. She sounded a little sleepy.

"Hey... so your dads were just here. At our house."

"My dads?" Rachel was clearly stunned.

"Yeah. They wanted to know where you were, I don't know, maybe they thought you had come here. They wanted to talk to me though, not Kurt, so... I don't know what they knew, but they knew we'd been spending some time together."

"I did tell them that," Rachel said. "And that they shouldn't interfere again."

"Okay. Anyway, I told them you were still in New York, and that if they wanted to see you they should go to you." Finn paused, hearing silence on the other end. "I hope that's okay."

"Um... yes, yes, that's fine. Good." She sounded a little hopeful. "Do - do you think they will?" she asked, her voice small.

"I think so. Or at least when they left here just now they looked like they were seriously thinking about it. I told them you hate the dorms, by the way."

"That's fine, that's certainly not a secret."

"You know Kurt's coming, right?"

"Yes, he called me yesterday." She sighed. "Maybe I can convince them to let us move in together, sometimes it seems like they trust him more than they trust me."

"I hope you're getting a chance to go out, so you're not in there too much," Finn said.

"I'm out now, actually," Rachel replied. "Over at a friend's place."

"Oh. Good. I should let you go then."

"Yes. Thank you for letting me know." She paused. "Merry Christmas, Finn."

"Merry Christmas, Rach." He bit back the impulse to add 'Happy Hanukkah' - that was over this year. "I love you and I miss you."

"I love you too. See you soon."

Finn hung up and sighed. God how he missed her, and more than anything missed how it could have been. Nothing he'd imagined, either with them together or apart, had been like this. He'd completely trusted that her dads were going to be there for her, and they wouldn't have gone along with anything they thought she couldn't handle - without that, Finn had broken her heart and then sent her off, devastated, into a big city where she knew nobody.

Thinking about it like that, he realized just how lucky they had been, it could have been so much worse. But that wrenching departure and her lack of trust in all three of them meant she couldn't just come back.

Unspoken by all of them had been another reason why Rachel might not feel comfortable going back to her old room, in her old house, under her fathers' control: she had already said goodbye to it, leaving that afternoon expecting to get married, expecting that where she would sleep and live would in future be with Finn. Mentally, emotionally, she wouldn't be prepared to re-enter that room as if she still belonged there.

Finn shook his head at himself for thinking about that might-have-been. She wasn't even comfortable in his arms again yet, they were a long way off from her sleeping in his bed.

* * *

Rachel put her phone away, and she looked around the living room where she was. She was glad that her dads were considering coming to see her, even happier that Finn had suggested it to them and that he'd told her. Finn did seem to be understanding her, now. She did feel a little guilty at the truth she herself had stretched, however; while she was indeed "over at a friend's place", she hadn't specified that the friend in question was Santana. While Santana had initially planned to share gas with Finn on the trip back to Lima, two phone calls in quick succession a week before had changed her mind; the first had been from the manager of a crooner looking for another female backup singer for a Christmas dinner show, and the second had been from Brittany. To the first she said she'd check her schedule and get back to him that day. She refused to talk about the call from Brittany that came less than an hour later, but as soon as they had hung up she'd called the manager back and signed on for the show.

With both of them lonely over the holidays, Santana had invited her over for the afternoon, and they had started cooking, some food for that night and more to fill the freezer. They had a good time together, with Rachel enjoying being able to cook and Santana enjoying having someone else to do it with her, and afternoon had stretched into evening. Santana had opened a bottle of wine and they'd had some of it with their dinner. Luckily Santana hadn't had much of the wine, though, because half an hour ago she'd been called into work unexpectedly, to fill in for another waitress who was running late. She'd said Rachel could stay, she'd be back soon after all, and topped up Rachel's glass just before she left.

So now Rachel sat back on the couch, and sipped at her glass of wine, just relaxing and looking idly around, her eyes often landing on Finn's drum kit.

Half an hour turned into a full hour, and more. Rachel considered leaving. However, she was feeling nicely mellow, what with the wine and how she felt after talking to Finn, and she also couldn't fully lock up if she left; there was a deadbolt lock, considered essential for security in New York, and Santana had taken her keys with her. And it was late, with the streets largely empty, not very safe for her to be out alone.

She wandered around the living room slowly, swaying a little and enjoying the movement. She paused, however, next to a closed door. Finn's room.

Rachel knew she shouldn't, really, especially after not telling him that she was here. But she did miss him. She opened the door a little and looked inside. It was small, the bed and dresser almost completely filling it, and basic. But it still felt like Finn, though probably a lot of that was her suggestibility. There was a small pile of clothes on the far side of the bed, clearly left over from rapid packing. And by the bed... Rachel's breath caught in her throat as she saw the picture, and she climbed over the bed to take a better look.

Yes, it was them, from prom, a picture taken during the King and Queen dance, both looking so happy, content, in love. She could see Finn's look of complete adoration and happiness as his head rested on hers, his arms holding her tightly. She remembered that moment, how utterly secure and loved she felt. Validated, fulfilled. And her heart swelled, not just from remembering that time but even more from knowing that Finn was remembering that time, that this was the moment of theirs that he chose to think about, as he went to sleep, as he woke up.

_He does understand_, she thought. _He does know what I need and what made us special._

She sat there for a while longer, gazing at the picture, willing herself into that moment, that feeling. And she did feel it, that sense of being safe and cared for in Finn's arms, the way she hadn't felt since the train station. She knew he'd been disappointed when she'd pulled out of his arms since, but she simply hadn't been feeling that way and couldn't stand to have the physical touch without the emotional one to match, couldn't stand feeling his strength around her when she still wondered if it would waver. Her body had reacted to his physically, almost overwhelmingly so, but to forge ahead with that before restoring her sense of trust and belonging would make a mockery of what they'd had together. She needed what that picture showed. And clearly that was what he wanted too.

Rachel yawned; with the energy spent cooking, the good meal, and of course the wine, she was feeling very sleepy. She had no idea now when Santana would return, there must have been some further problem with the person she was filling in for, or perhaps somehow they were just very busy. And even once Santana was back, it was a long subway ride back to the NYADA dorms that she so disliked.

Or she could just sleep here.

Would Finn mind? She was sure he would say she could, if she asked him, but she wasn't comfortable asking him. It would move things too fast for them to talk about something like this, or at least make them very strange. Was it taking too much of a liberty to simply do it without asking? Probably. Almost surely.

But she wanted to, and it's not like she was snooping into his things, at least not any further. And as far as she knew, he hadn't invited her back here yet simply because she wouldn't be comfortable with it, not because he had any reason to keep her out.

So she went to his dresser and dug out a t-shirt, one of his old McKinley ones, still in the same place he always kept them. She changed into it, went to the bathroom and washed up, then turned the lights out and crawled into Finn's bed. She felt comforted by the scent of him surrounding her, even though she dimly recognized that it was cheating to get that while opting out of dealing with him in that way. She buried the side of her face into his pillow, hugging it to her, and slept.

She slept very well.

* * *

In the morning she awoke slowly, a little confused about where she was, though the scent still lingered as a reminder. She was facing the photograph, and smiled softly as she reached out to touch Finn's face in it. _Photograph,_ she mused. _Maybe that song meant more after all._

"That's so sweet." Santana's dry statement startled Rachel, and she turned over quickly to see the Latina lounging against the frame of the now open door. "Really. Merry Christmas, Berry. I know you're Jewish and all, but whatever."

Rachel smiled, relieved that she was being spared whatever sarcastic remark she was sure Santana had come up with. Of course she'd known she'd be caught. "Merry Christmas, Santana."

"Not even trying to make an excuse, I like it. Anyway, I'm making coffee. Care to earn your keep by making breakfast? I need to fuel up well before the show."

"Sure."

Santana grinned. "Great. Hope your man's bed wasn't too uncomfortable, it was pretty cheap. Bet it'd be better for you with him actually in it, you should try it sometime."

Rachel winced. "Sometime." _Maybe even sometime soon_, she thought. Surrounded by Finn's things and his scent, she missed his warmth and his voice.

* * *

_Please review!_


	15. Drawing the Line

Midmorning December 26, Rachel had been sitting on her bed in the dorm listening to music when she answered the knock at her door to find her fathers standing there. She took in their hesitant postures, the hopeful but tentative smiles on each of their faces, and rapidly stepped out to hug them.

"I'm so glad you came," she said, leading them into her room.

"Are you?" LeRoy asked, looking into her face, still hopeful but a little sad.

"Of course," Rachel said, standing by her bed, facing them. "I have missed you, both of you, so much."

Hiram took LeRoy's hand, stopping both of them from going farther towards her. "Before we say anything more, Rachaela, sweetheart, you need to know how sorry we are." He blinked back tears.

Rachel teared up as well, but swallowed and tried to compose herself. She looked from one man to the other. "For what?" she asked, her face tight. More than anything she needed them to acknowledge that what they did was wrong.

Hiram squeezed his husband's hand, as if to prompt him.

"For lying to you," LeRoy said, his eyes on her. "For trying to manipulate you."

"And Finn," Hiram chimed in.

"Yes, and Finn. We certainly didn't intend for it to go so far."

"That's how you can tell we're not any good at that sort of thing, it's not in our nature," Hiram added, trying to smile.

"Well you certainly fooled us," Rachel replied curtly.

"We are so sorry," LeRoy said. "But are things all right now with you? Are you doing well?"

"Not that how you're doing would excuse anything," Hiram said, giving LeRoy a sidelong glance.

"No, that's not what I meant, just how are you," LeRoy backpedaled rapidly.

"Well enough, I suppose," Rachel said. She sighed and sat down on her bed, looking at the floor for a moment. Then she looked back up at her fathers. "It changed everything, though, you need to know that," she insisted. "Before - we hadn't even talked about when, or any of that, the engagement was just so new. Now -" she choked up. It was hard to let this out. "Now I've had two days when I thought I was going to be married to the love of my life, thinking all of that, wanting all of that, and then it went away." She could no longer hold back her tears. "Even knowing you all meant well, even knowing that we weren't really ready for it - that doesn't stop it from hurting." She buried her face in her hands and cried, and after a moment she felt the bed dip next to her as Hiram sat down, putting his long arm around her.

"We know, baby, we know," he murmured.

"Do you?" she sobbed out. "I know we're so young, but it seems like nobody really takes us seriously, that we should stay together. It's like everyone thinks we shouldn't even try, 'you're too young', 'your lives are too different', 'you need to try other people', all of that, like they expect us to just throw away something wonderful because it doesn't fit what they're used to. You didn't, why should we? Of course it's going to be hard but why does everyone have to make it harder?"

"We didn't mean to," LeRoy said, leaning over, his hand on her hair.

"Actually we did, LeRoy," Hiram contradicted. "We have to admit that."

LeRoy sighed. "All right, yes, we did. But not harder overall, just harder right away," he tried to explain. "We just thought - it would be better for you, easier, if you found out sooner rather than later that you weren't suited."

"_If _you weren't suited," Hiram stressed.

"Yes. _If._"

"And if we are, but thought we weren't?" Rachel protested, able to think of nothing more than that, of how Finn certainly had bought into that line of thought, too down on himself to see his own abilities and worth. How they'd almost lost everything because he'd been pushed to the edge. "We trusted you," she insisted. "_I _trusted you. I trusted you to look out for me and what and whom I care about. I trusted you to love me no matter what."

"We do, honey," Hiram insisted. "And we were looking out for you, we thought we were. We want what we've always wanted for you, to reach your dreams and be happy."

"My dreams? Or yours?" _How much of my dreams were really mine? _Hadn't they programmed her from birth to want to be on Broadway? Though that was part of who she was, however it had become that way. But her love for Finn, she knew that came from herself and from the connection they shared.

LeRoy cleared his throat. "Your dreams as we understood them," he stated. "And while we've always encouraged you to perform we didn't push, we made quite sure of that."

Rachel bit her lip. "I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest that. And I don't regret any of the effort I've put into singing and performing, I don't."

"I'm glad, honey," Hiram said.

"Just..." Rachel stood and moved to her desk chair, rolling it over to the bed. She gestured to LeRoy to take her place next to Hiram, and she sat down facing them, taking one hand from each of them in one of hers. "Dad, Daddy, when you sing together... what does it feel like?"

They exchanged a look, which seemed to her to be a meaningful one. "Why do you ask?" LeRoy asked her.

"When I sing with Finn - it's some sort of transcendent experience, I can't really describe it. Like I can actually feel his voice, like we come together that way," she tried to explain. "A reaction from an audience is a bit like that, but it's so much more. Like I was meant to sing with him and be with him. Of course now part of that is that we're accustomed to each other, but it's been like that from the start with us, at least a little."

"Like even in a crowd you mostly just hear him...?" Hiram mused, looking at LeRoy. LeRoy turned too, meeting his husband's eyes, nodding slightly.

"And I heard you," LeRoy answered, and she could tell they'd said these things to each other before, even though she hadn't heard them. "I didn't even know who you were, but I heard you."

"Oh I knew who you were," Hiram continued with a smile, and LeRoy smiled back at him.

Rachel lowered her gaze from them. They were usually very affectionate with each other, but this was something more, something intimate. At least it meant they should understand her.

Hiram noticed her change of focus. "No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart," he told her. "That's probably the only way we found each other, 'Up With People' was a large group and extremely conservative. But we heard each other."

"Not the most relatable songs either, not for us," LeRoy commented.

"So you understand," Rachel said. "You know what that's like, to feel the voice of someone else, like it's the only one there." She took a deep breath, marshalling her thoughts. "When I sing to Finn, it's like there's nobody else in the room. When I sing _with _him, it's like he's right there with me, even if he's on the other side of the stage or high in the balcony. I can always feel him. I wouldn't wish away anything that's led to that, and I definitely don't want to lose it. Or how else I feel with him, because our voices are really just the start."

The two men sat there, looking thoughtful.

"So why all the trouble the two of you have had?" LeRoy asked finally. "If you feel that."

Rachel squirmed a little. "We didn't know what it was," she tried to explain. "We felt it from the beginning, but neither of us really understood it for so long. It might have been easier to tell if it had been in a large crowd at first, like you. When we first sang together it was mostly just us." She saw them nod. "For Finn... I think it's only just now that I've been able to convince him that everyone else doesn't feel the same way when they hear me."

"You do have a lovely voice," Hiram said. "And it touches many people."

"Not like it touches Finn, at least I don't think so. And nobody's voice has touched me the way his has, though at first it was rough so it wasn't always apparent. I don't know. But now, I do think we have something really special. And yes we're so young to know what we need to do, but we do know we want to be together." She looked intently at them. "We're trying to take it slow, now, really we have to because everything got so mixed up. I'm still nowhere near as comfortable with him as I was, it's so hard to trust that he's not going to pull away again, thinking he's not good enough for me. But we know we want to be together," she repeated. "And I need you to respect that, whatever happens."

LeRoy pursed his lips. "Even if one of you says you don't?" he asked slowly. Rachel knew what he was talking about - when Finn had come to them and told him about his plan, to get them to meet her in New York. She frowned, tearing up again as she thought about it. She still could not accept that they had just gone along with it, ignoring how she would feel and especially what it could mean for Finn. And this, too, was something they had to clear up, she had been too distraught right after it happened to talk to them about what was wrong with what they'd done.

"You should have stopped him," she stated, ignoring the general way her dad had asked the question. They all knew what was really being discussed.

"He could make his own decisions," LeRoy insisted.

"A rash choice to risk his life, when you _knew_ you had deliberately pressured us?" Rachel stood, aghast. "Even if he was insistent, you should have tried to talk him out of it. You certainly shouldn't have gone along with it and hidden it from me." Her tears flowed freely as she thought of what could so easily have happened, and of her fears in those first few days, before Kurt had given her Finn's message. She paced, gesturing emphatically. "When Finn came to you he had given up on himself, and by extension on me, on what we had. You should never accept that from _anyone_." From what she had been told, everyone else had immediately questioned Finn's motives and state of mind when they had found out about the blindside and his last-minute plan to enlist. But the only two people who had known in advance didn't seem to have given it a second thought. "A potential eight-year commitment, and putting his life in danger, made as a sudden decision without talking to me, you knew that. **_And you just accepted it?_**"

Hiram and LeRoy both paled, Rachel's vehement words apparently sinking in. They exchanged a pained look. Rachel stopped her pacing and looked at them, waiting until they faced her again. Their demeanor seemed contrite, but she needed to make herself completely clear to them.

"You should take care of whomever I love the same way you would take care of me," she declared. "You want to know how we can be a family, after what happened? Well that's what I need. Be honest, treat me as an adult, and care for those I love as you would care for me." That was it, the line she had to draw. Favoring her was one thing, but being so careless with someone else, especially someone as dear to her as Finn, that was unacceptable. Did they really expect her to be so selfish too? Of course, until Finn her little world had really only been the three of them, they'd never had to consider anyone else for so long. But now there was Finn, and Kurt, and others... all people deserving of consideration. She wouldn't want to run over any of them in her race to her future, when she had she'd regretted it, and they shouldn't make her. And what had they thought of her, that they didn't think losing Finn would hurt her so much, forever? Bad enough that Finn hadn't understood that.

Rachel sank back into her chair and bowed her head, waiting.

After a few moments, Hiram cleared his throat. "At the time I thought it was very romantic," he offered, giving a wincing smile as Rachel raised her head to look at him dumbfoundedly. "A strong young man in a desperate situation, an heroic sacrifice..." he trailed off.

Rachel groaned. Though she supposed, yes, he might just have gone for that aspect of what Finn had done.

He took her hand. "I'm sorry, Rachel my dear," he said. "I suppose the situation... but you're right, I wouldn't have wanted the man I love to do something like that for me, however romantic." Hiram gave his husband a sidelong glance. "So please don't get any ideas, LeRoy."

"It's been just us, for so long," LeRoy said. "It blinded us. We are so, so sorry." He exhaled, and painted a cheery smile on his face. "But the worst didn't happen, did it? You're together again, now."

Rachel nodded slowly. "But it's hard. It's so hard to trust that he'll stay with me." Turning herself over to love was an act of faith, and right now she couldn't bring herself to believe, despite the love she felt.

"He does love you so very much, sweetheart," Hiram said softly. "That may be a reason why we went along with what he wanted, because we could understand how he felt, wanting the best for you."

"With none of you understanding that for me there is no 'best' that doesn't include Finn." Finn's humility was usually endearing, though ultimately frustrating when he acted on it; to have her dads think little of him was more than she could bear.

The next words she heard, though, were unexpected, both in content and in source.

"I think we're starting to," LeRoy said, his voice serious. He met her eyes. "Though it's been hard to see your connection, and you are both so young -" Rachel frowned, but her father continued. "For him to be someone who would be willing to do that, to care for you that way, we know how much he values you. And we wouldn't want you to be with anyone who valued you less, no matter how accomplished."

Well that was a start. Rachel smiled back at her dads a little, happy that at least they were willing to consider Finn's worth, though she knew that went well beyond his love for her. He'd always had so much unrealized potential. Yet she sometimes wondered if all three of the men in her life - exempting Kurt - had simply thought she was too dazzled by her love for Finn that she saw what wasn't there, instead of that essence of him being a key part of that love.

"I'm not a silly lovestruck girl, you know," she insisted, still smiling at them to take the edge off her words. "Finn has so much to offer, so much talent in himself, he just didn't have the opportunities and training that I've had. You saw it in the Nationals video, you must have."

"You had the crowd on their feet," Hiram said.

"On their feet? They were almost dancing in the aisles for the finale before I even entered. The song was an excellent choice, and everyone contributed, but Finn made it what it was." She was so proud of that, of him, and of what they'd done at Nationals; while she'd been disappointed at first in not getting the individual award, it made more sense that they'd won in large part due to the depth of their team. It had meant so much to them to win it together, and she knew Finn had felt on top of the world then, it was his rejection later that had caused him to doubt himself and do what he'd done to them both. If they hadn't had the wedding planned for right then, just when his hopes had been dashed... Rachel shook her head, trying to banish the if-onlies from her mind.

"You have to allow us our own partiality, sweetheart," Hiram commented. And she understood that, all those recitals and competitions they'd been to had always been to see her. But she needed more from them now.

"I suppose," she replied, though she still didn't like it. They knew she loved Finn, couldn't they try seeing _him_, even when she was there too? She sighed, and tried to cover it by suggesting that they go for lunch somewhere. They couldn't solve all this at once, and they had made a start.

Rachel thought about it more as they walked to her favorite cafe, the same one where she had been meeting Finn. The situation was difficult; she needed her dads to understand, but either way she also needed them. While they had let her down, she knew their love for her and commitment to her had never wavered. She knew they would never walk away from her, which was more than she could say of Finn. She needed that sureness, that stability, especially if she was going to manage to take that leap of faith in love again.

But she couldn't accept them thinking little of the man she loved. Nor did she want them around Finn until they were no longer likely to reinforce his fears.

* * *

They talked a little more over lunch, but nothing deep, just about how things were going, for Rachel in New York and for her dads back in Lima. They could only stay for a couple of days, but Rachel was glad they had come and that they were trying to relate to her at least somewhat as an adult instead of just a child. She lived in New York without them, after all, and they had apparently been fine with her moving here quite alone; it made no sense for them to baby her.

To her relief, they commiserated with her on the dorms, and said they understood it was quite unnatural for her. She hoped that later she could bring up Kurt's upcoming move to New York; they had called him in to help her when she'd been so devastated about Finn, and they had always been comfortable with him as her close friend. In some ways they treated him much more as an independent responsible person than they did her.

After lunch they went to walk down Broadway, passing the marquees for theaters and cinemas.

"We should go see that, sweetheart," Hiram said, waving at the poster for the _Les Mis _movie, which had opened the day before. "Tonight perhaps?"

"I'm seeing it with Finn, after he gets back."

"But surely that's because you want to see it," Hiram said, cajoling.

Rachel bristled. "He asked me to go, and I said I would, so I will. He's coming back tomorrow, so it's not like I'm having to wait, though I would if I had to."

"We didn't mean anything by it, honey," LeRoy said, trying to salvage things. He shot a firm look at Hiram. "We were just thinking of when we saw it on stage together, that it would be nice to go."

"We don't need to reminisce," Rachel said. "It's new to Finn, and I want to share this part of me with him. His perspective should be interesting, a new and different point of view. Anyway, he asked and I promised I would." A good example to show she wanted to move forward, not backwards, she figured. And Finn had reminded her about it the other night after the party, it had been his idea and she wouldn't undercut that.

"That's wonderful, honey," LeRoy said. "Besides, we should make the most of this time with you. Perhaps there's some part of New York you'd like to show us, something you've found in your time here?"

Glad that they were dropping the idea, she suggested they drop by Rockerfeller Center and then walk down Fifth Avenue, and they agreed.

So they went to marvel at the tree, and wandered down Fifth to the library, Hiram insisting on taking Rachel's picture with the lion statues outside. She took them to see the quotes on Library Way, one of her favorite places back in the summer and September when she had still been in such emotional turmoil over Finn. She hadn't brought him here yet, not wanting to dredge that up with him, though in time she should. Most people they knew probably wouldn't expect Finn to find beauty in a literary quote, but there were a few she thought he would like, and without the pressure of judgement she was sure he'd find his own favorites and his own take on them.

"Anything else you'd like to do?" LeRoy asked as they stopped for some more coffee.

"Well..." Rachel decided that it was time to broach the subject. "I should start looking at the apartment ads. Did you know that Kurt is coming?" Seeing them shake their heads, she continued. "He has a design internship with the Paul Joyce clothing line, it's very prestigious he says. He starts January 7, so he asked me to help him find a place to stay." She took a deep breath. "I was actually hoping we could room together," she said, carefully watching her dads for their reaction. "We wanted that before -" _even before Finn was to be a part of it - _"- and I don't think I'm ever going to be comfortable in those dorms. It would be more economical, as well, since we can share expenses and cook."

"Oh." Hiram looked over at LeRoy, and she waited as the two of them exchanged a look over her head.

"We could consider that," LeRoy said. "Why don't you see what you can find, and we'll talk it over."

Rachel wasn't above laying it on a little thick, and with her dads it was almost to be expected. "Kurt's been such a support to me, through all of this," she gushed. "I know it's going to be so much easier for me, just having him in New York."

"Take a look and see what's available," LeRoy reiterated, but though they weren't saying "yes" yet she knew eventually they would. They'd never explicitly denied her anything, and she doubted they would try manipulation again so soon, so if they weren't trying to distract her from the topic or making a counterproposal then their agreement was just a matter of time. And she knew that they knew she could do it without their support, if she had to.

By the time she bid them goodbye at their hotel late the following afternoon, with them headed for the airport, they had found a few possiblities that they said were suitable, and she had convinced them to agree on the one she liked best of those they'd seen. The neighborhood wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't that far from NYADA, and as an added bonus it was on the same long subway line that ran near Finn and Santana's place in Brooklyn. Not that she told her dads that little fact.

Rachel sighed in relief as she walked back to the subway, happy that in a week she would be living with Kurt. And Finn was coming back today - but as she thought that, she looked at the snow falling and the gusts of wind that stirred it, and worried. _Silly,_ she thought. _He's driven in the snow a hundred times._ Still, her dads' flight was delayed due to weather, and she couldn't be content until she knew Finn was back safely.

* * *

Finn arrived back in Brooklyn just after seven P.M., tired and hungry. He'd been up late the night before, and once he made it into Pennsylvania the weather had turned increasingly bad, so he'd just pushed on without stopping for more than coffee and a quick bite. Going out with Puck had been fine when it started, but he hadn't been able to call it quits when things went late and Puck still wanted his "wingman" around.

Back in the apartment, he forged straight through to his room, dropped his bag and jacket by the door, and flopped facedown on his bed, exhaling in relief at having made it. He inhaled, relaxing, the tension of the drive leaving him, breathing in a scent that seemed to linger.

_That smells like... Rachel._ Finn was puzzled. _Must be imagining it, coming back to New York and wondering how she's doing. And I'm so tired. _He exhaled and inhaled again, still smelling something that seemed to remind him of her, even though he couldn't remotely figure out what.

"Hello to you too." Santana's dry voice came from the door. Finn rolled over.

"Hey. Tough drive, the weather's getting worse." Finn groaned. "Do we have food?"

"Lasagna in the fridge." Santana shook her head bemusedly and went back to the living room.

"Mmm. Thanks." Finn stretched, blinked, and rocked himself back to his feet, then went to the kitchen. The fridge had what looked like half a lasagna in it, sitting in a plastic container. Out of curiosity he checked the freezer; where there was one container of food there was usually more, unless Santana had been eating lasagna the whole time he was gone. But in the freezer he saw almost every container they had and some new ones, all full of food that definitely hadn't been there before Christmas.

Santana had followed him, and met his surprised look. "Well take your pick," she said, "but the lasagna hasn't been frozen and the rest are."

"There's a lot of this," Finn commented. "Not that I'm complaining, no way, it's great, just you must have been busy." He put half the remaining lasagna on a plate and put it in the microwave to heat. He knew Santana would have been lonely, however unlikely she was to admit it, though it was still unlike her to fill time with cooking.

"Lopez family tradition, Christmas Eve is a day to cook."

Finn gave her a skeptical look. "After how sick you are of cooking the rest of the time?" The microwave beeped, and he took out his plate and tested it with a fork. It seemed hot enough.

She shrugged. "This was different. Tradition."

"Well thank you." Finn took a forkful, finding the hot food even more welcome than usual after the long drive in the cold. But the taste - that was special, he knew that flavor combination too well to mistake it, all sunshine and herbs and sweetness. He couldn't taste that without thinking of Rachel, of her deep eyes and shining hair and those luscious lips he ached to kiss. "And you had help." He gave Santana a brief intent look, telling her not to bullshit him.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes," she admitted. "That's tradition too, to cook together. And it's more fun that way."

"And she makes really awesome tomato sauce."

Santana just smiled and left Finn to his meal.

_'At a friend's place,' huh?_ Finn thought, smiling, though curious why Rachel had been so cagy when he'd talked to her. He ate on. As he finished, thanking Rachel silently for the food, he remembered that elusive _Rachel _scent, and wondered just how extensive Rachel's visit had been.

Finn washed up and went to the living room, sinking into a chair. "How'd your show go?" he asked Santana.

She gave a noncommittal shrug. "Stand, sway, and sing backup to bland songs that might have been Latin in a past life. Still beats waiting tables. And I think the old folks liked me, they were nice."

"Hey, it's a start, that's what you always tell me, right?"

"Right." Santana nodded decisively, then fell silent.

"I ran into Brittany, yesterday," Finn said quietly. "She was asking about you."

Santana swallowed. "What did you say?" she asked, faking brightness, staring at the table.

"That you're down to kicking my ass every other week now instead of every week. She thinks you're slipping." Finn saw Santana smile briefly at his joke, but she still looked at the table. "I told her you were doing okay. She said she misses you."

"I miss her too." Santana's lips were set in a line. "It's complicated."

"Seems everything is. But you know, if you ever want to talk." Finn rose, looking down at her.

She nodded. "Yes, I know. I just don't right now, okay?"

"Sure." Finn started to go back to his room, then turned back. "And Puck says hi," he added. "He said a lot of other stuff too but most of it was just his usual." He snorted. "Wanted to know if I was keeping you in line, like that's an option. I'm not sure I remember half of it anyway, we were out really late last night."

"Puckerman's an _ass_," Santana proclaimed.

"You say that like it's news. He misses you too though. They all do. And I dropped off the package with your folks, as soon as I got into town."

"I know, they called." She glanced up at him. "Thanks."

"No problem."

On that, Finn went to his room, picking up his jacket and bag from where he'd dropped them, and putting his things away. He pulled out his phone and lay down on his bed again, once more getting that _Rachel_ sensation; she'd been here, he could tell. He shook his head, puzzled. _Well if she doesn't want to tell me she doesn't have to, I guess_, he thought, meaning Rachel. He sent her a quick text though: _Just got back. Movie on for tomorrow night?_

A few minutes later he got her reply: _Yes to movie._ And then another: _Glad to hear you're back ok. I love you._

Finn looked at it for a minute. Had she been worried, if she'd heard about the roads? He couldn't really ask. _I love you_, he texted back, then put his phone down by his alarm clock and nodded off.

* * *

_Please review!_


	16. Let the People Sing

_A/N: Chapter title is from the Irish song of that name, written by Brian Warfield.  
Potential spoilers for __Les Miserables__, the musical and the odd little hint about the movie. It's strange bringing in something that there's no way any of us have seen yet._

* * *

The next afternoon Finn had the rest of the band over to rehearse for the New Year's Eve gig. After four hours of playing and wrangling about the setlist and arrangements they were more than ready to call it quits; they were all tired, and some of this was ground they'd gone over a few times, around and around without getting anywhere. By the practiced arguments of Scott and Daryl, some of the contention about material dated back at least a year.

"Look, I'll take another look at those songs and we'll go at it again tomorrow, okay?" Daryl said, trying to at least put the argument aside.

Scott shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. You might want to try playing them all back to back while you're at it, give you a bit of a reality check on those solos."

"Are you saying I can't hang in -"

"Boys, knock it off," Irene jumped in, interrupting Daryl's comeback. "We're all tired and hungry, let's not let it make us dumb. We'll all think about those numbers and meet back tomorrow, okay?"

Scott hung back, messing with his tuning as Daryl and Irene quickly packed up their gear and left. "Sorry about that," he told Finn once the others had gone. "It's an old argument, I shouldn't drag you into it. It just seems worse every time."

"What's the problem?" Finn asked. "'Cause I'm pretty sure it's not about what songs we're doing, not really."

Scott looked sheepish. "You're right, it's not." He sighed and sank into a chair. Finn sat on the couch next to him. "Daryl's a spotlight hog, that's all. He's gotten better about the weekly gigs, but for the big shows he's even worse than before. There isn't a single number we're doing that he isn't either singing or doing a big solo in, sometimes both. It's going to get old for the audience, and it's not fair to us." He leaned forward and looked seriously at Finn. "You and I, we're trying to make a go of this more seriously. Daryl isn't, Irene pushes the business angles but together they're happy to do this on the side. We're heading into a lull, there's not much work for the band before Valentine's Day, and all they'll do is pick up more consulting work. They're fine with the band being in mostly a holding pattern, but we can't be, and if we're going to get other gigs individually we need to have our chance to shine too, especially at the multi-band shows. And we also need the finale to not suck, which it will if our frontman is dead tired by the time we get to it."

"That one piece you wanted," Finn mused thoughtfully.

"There's a spot in it that would be great for the two of us to do a back-and-forth rhythm bit. He'd get a break, we'd get to let loose - it's the right thing to do." Scott frowned. "Tyler's a bit of a prick, but he bailed so suddenly for a reason. He was sick of being nothing but backup for Daryl's hobby, and sometimes that's all this feels like."

"But he's got all those connections."

"Yeah, don't get me wrong, Daryl's a nice guy, and he knows a lot of people. Best if we can get this to progress more organically, you know? But we can't if he kneejerks back at me _every single time_." He gestured in frustration. "The genie can't go back into the bottle anyway. We're a better band with you and with the diversity you give us, Daryl knows that. He's said that. If we slip back to the old way people won't be happy even though they were before. We can be even better, if he'll get with the program and give us some room." He shrugged, and got up to put his guitar away. "I'll back off on most of the rest of it, for now, if he'll give a little. And he needs a break during the show, he just doesn't realize it."

"Maybe we can try to play straight through tomorrow," Finn suggested. "We should anyway, work through the transitions."

"Worth a try. And he's got to give us _something_. Or me, I guess." Scott backpedaled hastily.

"_Us_ is fine. I'd like to do those numbers too. We're supposed to be a band, not employees, right? Hopefully he'll come around. See you tomorrow." Finn showed Scott out, then went back to his drums to check them over.

_Scott's right about both of us needing to build our careers more_, Finn thought. _It's a great gig, but it needs to go somewhere, I can't get stuck as backup for someone's sideline. _He also wasn't thrilled to hear about the coming January drought in gigs.

Time to put some feelers out again. _Tomorrow_, he told himself. Because tonight he was going to see Rachel.

* * *

As he showered after rehearsal Finn decided to dress up a little for his date with Rachel; funny how he was getting nervous about seeing her again after only a week, but it felt longer since he'd been travelling. He'd missed her so much over Christmas, too, the used-to-be and might-have-beens being too hard to escape from.

And in general their holiday track record did suck, last Christmas being the only real exception. Even Valentine's Day last year was tainted by her fathers' scheming dinner and their quarrel, and it had been their only one together. So it was worth making an effort, he told himself. Plus he just wanted to, not that there was anything wrong with how she looked at him the rest of the time but he _really _liked how she looked at him in that black shirt.

She had said she wanted to meet him at the cinema, so he made sure he arrived in plenty of time, picked up the _Les Mis _tickets, and waited. He turned up and down the street every so often, wondering which way she was coming. The subway was right, Broadway was left... he turned again to see her ten feet away, a beaming smile on her face, and he lit up in return.

A heartbeat later she launched herself into his arms, which was unexpected but very good. _Guess she really missed me too. _He lowered her head to nuzzle at her hair, breathing in its scent. That was what he'd been smelling in his bed all right, though so much better in person. Better still with an armful of Rachel, soft and warm.

He gave her a kiss, then looked down at her with a smile as he took her hand. "Looking forward to the movie?" he asked.

She smiled back. "Very much. And you, you do know what you're getting in for, right?"

"Hey it's Maximus and Wolverine, so it should be pretty kickass. The trailer looks cool, even without knowing what's going on. And there's singing, I heard they did it live. What's not to like?"

Rachel smiled at his explanation, but still pushed further. "It is a musical, though, not an action movie. Those actors, they have very wide ranges."

Finn suppressed a grimace at her patronizing-sounding words; her tone was normal, but of _course _he knew what sort of movie it was. He forced a smile back onto his face. "Yeah, I know. They're always good, though, it'd be great to see them face off against each other. And there's fighting, it's about as close to a tough-guy musical as there is. Don't worry, I'll enjoy it, and I really do want to see it with you."

"I'm glad. Though I have to warn you, there are a few things about it, associations, that I'm likely to get very emotional about. But I'll be fine, just don't worry if I start crying over a song or two."

"You, cry over a song?" Finn's mouth quirked up.

"It has been known to happen," Rachel answered, giggling a little. "Seriously, though, one of the songs, it's the one in the trailer and even that affected me every time. It's the one that Shelby recorded to get me to hear, when she was trying to get me to find her."

"Ouch." Finn tried to remember the song from the trailer - something about lost dreams? That would hurt anyway, given the dream he'd given her and then taken away, but the Shelby connection made it even worse. Plus this reminded him that he wasn't the only person who had hurt Rachel through pushing for a closer relationship and then pulling back when he got scared. Lucky she trusted anyone at all, once they were through with her. He gave her a hug, gratified that she didn't pull away. "Well I'll be right there with you." He took her hand and led her inside.

They naturally gravitated to their usual spots near the front of the upper block of seats, and Finn pulled out his smuggled-in food; movie concessions were far too expensive, but he had a bottle of Coke for himself, water for Rachel, and a large bag of Sour Patch Kids, their old usual. Rachel smiled when she saw the candy, her eyes flickering up to his face as he returned the look, both enjoying the comfort of the familiar.

They talked a little as they waited, catching up. Finn was thrilled to hear that she had found a place for herself and Kurt, and his heart warmed further to hear her describe how things had improved with her dads.

"Thank you for suggesting that they come see me," she said, her head on his shoulder. "Whatever you said to them - I think it really helped." Finn smiled, happy at this; he hadn't changed in wanting to do whatever would help her, but he was getting better at considering what would actually make her happy.

The theater darkened. They endured the ads, commented on the various trailers attached to the movie (at least one joint "yes", which was good, with some "yes"/"maybe" combinations that could be managed), then quieted as _Les Miserables _started.

Finn found himself getting into the movie quite easily; over the years he'd become used to the 'sing to express yourself' way of doing things, hell he'd done it himself, so it wasn't that hard to accept it from the characters in the movie. Once the song from the trailer showed up he stole careful looks at Rachel next to him, but though her hand tightened in his her focus seemed to be on the movie rather than being drawn into memories.

That changed later in the movie once the young man was introduced, he could tell she reacted to the unrequited love that one girl, the brunette, had for him. Rachel flinched when he met and fell for the blonde instead; Finn could feel her beside him reacting and he knew there were more memories here too.

And sure, the blonde had had a crappy childhood thanks to the brunette's parents, so he knew they were supposed to cheer for her getting to be happy, but that didn't stop him from wishing that the guy would come to the same decision that he himself had. Though in his case it had been more of a discovery than a decision.

More recent memories were stirred up when the brunette started to sing: (*)

_And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to_  
_Without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to_  
_And now the night is near_  
_Now I can make believe he's here_

Finn appreciated the number musically, and it seemed familiar, but he cringed at the lyrics. _That's way too close to home. _He could feel Rachel tense next to him, and he stroked the hand he held, trying to ease her, and he had to admit also to relieve hiself from the guilt at how he'd made those words come true for her.

_On my own_  
_Pretending he's beside me_  
_All alone I walk with him till morning_  
_Without him I feel his arms around me_  
_And when I lose my way I close my eyes_  
_And he has found me_

Finn knew this song, knew the sound of it in the sweetest voice there was, and once upon a time it had been about him. Maybe a lot more times than once, from some of the words. Rachel's hand tightened in his, and he turned to her, seeing her stare at the screen, tears coming. But he was here, she didn't need to cry or only imagine his arms around her. She wasn't alone, and she certainly wasn't the sad brunette losing out to the blonde, not for a while now. He leaned over to kiss her, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She sighed and snuggled against him, as closely as the armrest would allow, and he gave his own sigh of satisfaction at feeling her there, staying so close, not tensing up or pulling away at all.

* * *

Overall, Finn enjoyed the movie, though he realized he probably wouldn't have enjoyed the stage musical that much; he was sucked in by the visuals, both the big spectacles and the more up-close parts, and the face-off between Valjean and Javert was as intense as he'd hoped. Even the songs were less "stagey" than he'd been expecting, and he'd been sucked into Valjean's struggle, both internal and external, from the first "What have I done." He'd had similar thoughts himself, back when he'd found out how hard Rachel had taken his train stunt, so he could relate.

After the movie Finn walked with Rachel to the subway, heading back to the NYADA dorms. Rachel chattered enthusiastically about the movie; she'd obviously enjoyed it even more than she'd expected, and she discussed on how they'd amplified some of the storylines from the stage musical, including parts of the love triangle.

"Really thought he should have picked the brunette over the blonde," Finn commented. He looked sidelong at her, moving his hand to stroke her hair. "Of course I am totally biased, not just on looks but also how strong she was. Determined, just like my girl."

She stopped to look at him seriously. "What Eponine did, following him - I would have done it too, to be with you," she said quietly. "I know it's just a movie, well and a musical _and _a book, but that thing about the army being somewhere I couldn't follow you -"

Finn's stomach fell to hear her bring that up. He really didn't want her to think about those words of his ever again.

"- you have to know that's just because they have rules and requirements so they wouldn't let me. I would have signed up for every USO tour I could, to find you."

He squeezed her hand to stop her from saying more. "Hey, no more of that," he said softly. "I was dumb to think of going off and risking that for you, especially when it wasn't even something you needed, and I sure wouldn't want you to do it for me. I don't see how that dude could go on and be happy once the girl died, like ever, though he fell for the wrong girl anyway so he's even more dumb. If anything happened to you it would kill me."

Rachel looked back at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Same here," she said, and he pulled her close. He enjoyed that he could do that again now. "_Okay?_" she insisted emphatically.

"Okay," he agreed. They stood just holding each other for a few moments, parting only when the sea of passing New Yorkers started bumping into them.

Finn smiled down at her, taking her hand again. "We kind of already did that anyway," he said. "Back when you joined the football team, I didn't want to think about why then but I knew. That was us then, sort of, those three. But it definitely would have killed me if anything had happened to you, and he still fell for the wrong girl." Though maybe he'd been more stupid, for a while, having fallen for the right girl and still been with the wrong one. At least his heart had always been in the right place (where the _right_ place was on the _left_).

Rachel smiled up at him, twining her hand tightly in his, but said nothing.

They descended to the subway and were able to find seats together on the next train, Finn draping his arm around Rachel's shoulders. _She always fits so perfectly_, he thought. It felt right, them being like that.

They walked in comfortable silence from the subway to NYADA, and paused as they reached the dorms, Rachel looking up at Finn through her lashes. "If you have time, why don't you come up for a little while?" she asked, and there was no way he was turning that down.

"Sure, I could stay maybe an hour or so," he answered, and followed her inside and up the stairs. She hadn't asked him up before, but there didn't seem to be college rules about it. She'd been over at his place, in his room - maybe it made her more comfortable about having him in hers, he figured.

"You should at least see the place, now that I'm leaving it soon," she said as she opened her door. "And it would be good to make some better memories here."

"Better memories?" Finn questioned, looking around the room. Her never-discussed roommate was clearly absent, things packed neatly away. Rachel's own bed and desk were also tidy, as to be expected, and he was elated to see pictures of him pinned up by her bed, his senior portrait and a picture of the two of them from Nationals, happy, triumphant.

"Yes, I -" Rachel paused, looking shy. "I was hoping, maybe... we could make out? Until you have to go?" Finn froze briefly, surprised at her request and its directness, and she continued hurriedly. "If you want to, I mean, or we could talk, or just sit together," she stammered.

Finn smiled and closed the few steps between them. "I want to," he breathed. _Hell yes. _He leaned down to kiss her, pressing her back towards her bed. "Any time, my lips are yours. And, uh, any other, uh, parts of me that you want."

Rachel blushed, but kissed him back and pulled him down as she sank onto her bed. "Well I know I have to ask," she demurred. "I know you don't want to push me, and I appreciate that."

"I like you aggressive with me," Finn murmured, kissing his way along her jaw. "First time we met you were aggressive. It scared me silly -" he paused as her tongue darted out to trace his lips - "but it was also really hot." He gasped at the contact, and she lay back, guiding him down with her. "Still is."

There wasn't much space on Rachel's single bed, but it reminded him of his old bed in the house he'd grown up in, and their past makeout sessions there, back when making out was all they'd ever done. And now, as then, he could lose himself in how amazing it was to kiss Rachel, how she felt and tasted, how responsive she was to him. He had to hold himself back, just making out, and a couple of times he got carried away and had to regroup when she pulled away from him, but the press of her against him, feeling her hands on his back and neck, hearing her moan his name...

He was painfully hard by the time he had to leave, but his dreams that night were hot and sweet.

* * *

Rachel lay on her bed after Finn left, her body thrumming.

She'd had some horrible times in this room, especially in the early days, and then right after she'd first seen Finn again. This, though - she'd been able to let go of so much of her tension, enjoying the sensations that only Finn could make her feel, his touch so much more than physical. Even when she'd been thrown so badly, after he'd sent her away and she'd doubted whether he really felt the same connection to her as she felt for him, she had known there couldn't be anyone else. Nobody else that she felt was part of her soul almost from the start, even if she hadn't always understood that that was what he was.

If not from that first "Don't Stop Believing", then certainly from the moment she'd felt his heart under her hand, as he stumbled over telling her how she affected it, and him. And that first touch of his lips against hers, despite his panic and her hurt that had followed.

Like - like their voices had called them to each other, the way her dads had experienced. And each song, each touch, each encounter and new step in their relationship had only imprinted him on her more and more. Losing all of that at once, it had felt like death, like she'd lost part of herself in some terrible accident and had only a phantom limb taunting her. And now - like being alive again, like she'd forgotten how to breathe before and could now, hoping with each tentative inhale that the next one wouldn't choke her. Hoping with each exhale that there would still be more air to come.

Hoping that the amazing feeling she had now, of love and rising pleasure and want combined, was going to build rather than be taken away again. Hope that soon she would feel it right to give into the ache she felt for him, and not have to turn away his obvious need for her. She felt guilty at this last, especially since she had instigated making out; it was so much harder to pull back now that they'd had more, now that her body knew the feel of his so intimately, and surely for him it was the same. She longed for more, but longed greater still to be sure that they could handle more.

_One step at a time_, she told herself. It would be a disaster if either of them got scared again, at least if they acted on it. And things were going so well, they shouldn't rush.

The movie had been ideal, she had loved it and Finn's enjoyment had added to hers. Not to mention having him there comforting her as remembered feelings of loss and hurt were stirred up. It had been cathartic, like together they'd been able to close the door on those old memories. And open up new perspectives: Finn had been right about the tough-guy aspect, with far more action than she'd expected, and she in turn had been happy to see him responding both to the characters and to the actors, understanding that a man could be strong, and yes tough, while still being a true artist. There had been a lot up on that screen that she'd hoped would inspire Finn, art and song, struggle and persistence, love. And it - and he himself - inspired her too.

If only she could be sure he saw those things in himself that she saw.

* * *

_* "On My Own", from the musical Les Miserables, lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer._

* * *

_Please review!_


	17. Lay Your Heart and Head

_A/N: While working on this, I also wrote a short in-current-continuity piece that's not exactly Finchel but is pro-Finchel (and very anti-Brody). You can find it on my author page, if interested._

_I have no experience with New Year's Eve in Times Square, but I have done my best to fake it.  
_

* * *

"So how was the hobbit?" Santana asked Finn the next morning as she made coffee.

It had been a long time since Finn had heard Santana insult Rachel's height - this was unexpected, and definitely not to be tolerated. He gave her a glare. "What's with the insult?"

"Insult?" Santana seemed to be playing dumb. He had no idea what she was up to, but frankly he didn't care.

"Yeah. Calling my girl names, making fun of her height. Just because she's not here to hear it doesn't make it okay." He kept his eyes on her, reinforcing his point. He and Rachel had had a great time last night, he didn't need this crap spoiling it, and anyway he'd thought she and Santana were good friends now. "Rachel's the perfect _Rachel _size, anyone who says different is full of it, and that includes you." Especially last night, making out on her small dorm bed, given his own size they'd never have managed at all if Rachel hadn't been her perfect tiny self. And he always loved how well she fit in the curve of his body.

"I asked you about _The Hobbit_. Wasn't that the movie you went to see?" Santana gave him one of her fake-innocent smiles.

Finn groaned, annoyed to have fallen into her trap, but he still frowned at her. "Nice chain-yanking, but it's still not funny and it sure as hell isn't cool for you to even joke about calling Rachel mean names again." He looked straight at Santana, doing his best to stare her down. She was usually much better at that than he was, but this time she was completely out of line so he wasn't giving in. "And you know damn well we were seeing _Les Mis_. Which was awesome." He took his coffee from her and sank onto his usual stool by the counter.

Santana gave a moue. "Okay, _fine_. Just a joke, you know I can't resist something clever once it comes into my head. I'm sorry." She paused, looking at him, but he wasn't going to let her off the hook. "Great defense, though," she offered.

"Thanks." Finn looked at his coffee for a moment, calming down. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I haven't actually seen any of this great friendship the two of you supposedly have now."

Santana shrugged. "Our schedules are all different, and she's a ways away."

"Yeah." He thought some more. "You free New Year's Day?"

"I should be, well the afternoon and evening at least. I'm not working." She smiled. "I plan to be out _very _late the night before."

"Maybe we could all do something, hang out around here or whatever."

"Sounds good." She looked carefully at him. "We really do get along."

"My brain knows it, just - it's weird, I guess."

"Given that I used to do whatever I could to make her life hell?"

"Yes."

Santana shrugged. "I used to do a number on your life too. Was I ever a bitch, and for once I don't mean that in a good way. But coming out - it really showed me who my friends are. Or could be. Whatever." She raised her eyebrow. "Are we cool?"

"Yeah, sure." He gave her a nod and a smile, meaning it. "We're cool."

* * *

Band practice went much better that day, which was a good thing too since they were running out of time to make changes. However, that was also probably why it went better, Finn noted to himself; Scott acknowledged that it was too late to make many changes, but he clearly still had long-term issues. In return, Daryl agreed to replace a number he was pushing for with the one that Scott and Finn both wanted, where they could stretch themselves, and everything was okay for now.

So they nailed down the setlist, did a couple more run-throughs, and they were ready for the gig.

* * *

New Year's Eve found _Dance Hall Daze _as the second of four acts in a large Manhattan hotel ballroom. Much to Finn's relief, the three opening acts were sharing drums to avoid excessive delays; the third act took precedence, so all he had to do was bring his own sticks, move the cymbals around to suit himself, and make a few minor adjustments before their set.

Their set was going fine, and he and Scott had enjoyed the rhythm improv they'd wanted. But the stage area was unusually hot and humid, and as they neared their last few songs Daryl seemed to be slowing down, skipping some of the flourishes Finn had come to expect.

With three songs left, Daryl stopped and appeared to be retuning, leaning a bit on Irene's keyboard stand. _Doesn't he have his spare? _Finn wondered, concerned. Both Daryl and Scott always brought a second guitar, tuned up and ready to go, in case they broke a string or had other problems. He glanced at the side of the stage behind Irene, and sure enough there was Daryl's spare. Finn couldn't do anything except stay seated at the drums, though, as the seconds ticked by. Scott sidled over to the other two, and they seemed to be talking tensely.

It probably was just a few seconds more, but it seemed like a lot longer, given the fact that there was a restless crowd of people in front of them waiting for them to play again. Finally Scott came back to talk to Finn, and Irene started talking to the crowd with generic "hey how's your night so far" stuff.

Finn hastily tapped his mic off. "What's going on?" he asked Scott.

"Can you sing 'The Flame'? And play it? Now?" Scott asked urgently.

Finn's mind raced. More Cheap Trick, right? He was okay with any of their songs except "Surrender", damn that word anyway. But he hadn't played "The Flame" recently, they'd done it once back when he first started but that was it, and he'd only been playing, not singing. He did know how to sing it, but both together... he frowned. "Yeah but no promises on quality for doing both, it'll be rough," he answered, half-listening to Irene continue to talk about New Year's Eve and resolutions. "What's going on?"

"Daryl's_ finally_ realized he needs a break before the finale, so we need a number without him _now _if we can." Scott turned and flashed a quick thumbs-up to Irene, who nodded back and started on the band intros. Daryl usually did those just before the finale and finished on himself, but this time Irene started with him, and after a quick riff and wave Daryl stepped back and went offstage. He did look extremely pale, and Finn hoped he was just tired. The stage end of the ballroom wasn't very well ventilated. "We'll hash it out with him later, but right now we have to save the set. Irene's usual stuff is too poppy for this gig, so time to step up." With a last nod and tap to his ear, Scott stepped away just as Irene introduced Finn; he played a fancy fill, then stood and waved, doing it mechanically as the sudden change rocked him.

_Shit. Get yourself together, Hudson. We used to throw stuff together all the time in Glee._ Though none of that had been for a paying audience, or any audience at all except themselves usually. But of course his favorite audience, Rachel, had always been there. Finn closed his eyes, ignoring the crowd and bringing the song out of his brain; once it got started he should be fine, or so he hoped. At least the arrangement they used was mostly keyboards, so Irene could cover for the missing lead guitar. He turned his mike back on, relieved that he'd remembered to do that. Scott did an extended bass riff for his intro, stretching it and goofing off a little, then fading out. Irene finished with herself, and then:

"You've got all night, but it's time we got the couples out on the dance floor," Irene said. "You'll party your brains out later, but for now - this one's for all the true lovers out there." She started playing the intro; Finn took a deep breath, imagining Rachel there to sing to, shedding the panic from his nerves, and then it was time to sing. (*)

_Another night slowly closes in_  
_And I feel so lonely_  
_Touching heat freezing on my skin_  
_I pretend you still hold me_  
_I'm going crazy, I'm losing sleep_  
_I'm in too far, I'm in way too deep over you_  
_I can't believe you're gone_  
_You were the first, you'll be the last_

He started in on the drums, Scott adding the bassline. And a bit more, compensating for Daryl's absence, though they didn't miss lead guitar much with the depth Irene was putting into the keyboards. Finn continued, as best he could; it was hard to keep his voice steady on the long notes as he drummed.

_Wherever you go, I'll be with you_  
_Whatever you want, I'll give it to you_  
_Whenever you need someone_  
_To lay your heart and head upon_  
_Remember, after the fire, after all the rain_  
_I will be the flame_  
_I will be the flame_

Finn couldn't completely close his eyes, not with a less familiar drum kit. But his focus was internal, singing from his heart to the one person he wished could be hearing him now, the person to whom this was a promise. His singing, his playing, it all flowed from her.

_Watching shadows move across the wall_  
_I feel so frightened_  
_I wanna run to you, I wanna call_  
_But I've been hit by lightning_  
_Just can't stand up for fallin' apart_  
_Can't see through this veil across my heart, over you_  
_You'll always be the one_  
_You were the first, you'll be the last_

_Wherever you go, I'll be with you_  
_Whatever you want, I'll give it to you_  
_Whenever you need someone_  
_To lay your heart and head upon._  
_Remember, after the fire, after all the rain_  
_I will be the flame_  
_I will be the flame_

_I'm going crazy, I'm losing sleep_  
_I'm in too far, I'm in way too deep over you_  
_You'll always be the one_  
_You were the first, you'll be the last_

More depth came to the music, guitar: Daryl was back with them. Finn kept his focus on his thoughts of Rachel, sending her the song as a vow to not give up again, as if she could feel it even though she couldn't hear it.

_Wherever you go, I'll be with you_  
_Whatever you want, I'll give it to you_  
_Whenever you need someone_  
_To lay your heart and head upon._  
_Remember, after the fire, after all the rain_  
_I will be the flame_  
_I will be the flame_

_Whatever you want, I'll give it to you_  
_Wherever you go, I'll be with you_  
_And whatever you want, I'll give it to you_

At the end, Daryl stepped up to his mike. "Ladies and gentlemen, Finn Hudson!" Finn stood to sheepishly acknowledge the applause and whistles, along with Daryl's mouthed 'thank you'.

* * *

To everyone's relief the short break had done Daryl a lot of good, and they all rocked the finale, to the cheers of the crowd. Finn grabbed his sticks and headed off, stopping briefly to give the drummer succeeding him a quick rundown on the adjustments he'd made to the man's kit. He was physically tired from drumming, mentally tired from how alert he'd had to be for his sudden solo, and he knew he was headed for a post-adrenaline crash soon.

Backstage he stopped at the washroom to wipe off some of the sweat, then headed down the hall to the room they were using as a dressing room, to get his towel.

A few steps outside the washroom door he found his way blocked by a woman in a tight skimpy dress with an obvious bright red dye job on her hair, who looked to be in her mid-twenties. Finn stopped, unsure how to handle this.

"Your song was amazing," the artificial redhead simpered up at him. "I just _love _your voice."

"Uh thanks," Finn said, reddening. _Is she supposed to be backstage? _Though it was hard to control the hotel halls, he supposed.

She stepped closer. "Was it for anyone _special? _You didn't say."

"Well, yeah, it's for my girl," he stumbled, trying to avoid too much eye contact as he moved past her. "Sorry, gotta go."

"Oh." She pouted. "Are you leaving? But it's still early. Maryanna thought..."

"Who?" Finn frowned, puzzled. "No, I'm - I'm going out to, uh, to meet up with my girl," he said hurriedly. As he said it, it came to him that he could; his part of the gig was over, he didn't have to deal with the drums, so if he could wipe himself off and change shirts he could head over to Times Square and try to find Rachel. He had previously intended to just stick around backstage and listen to the other bands, but it was still only eleven and it was going to be lonely hanging around when he couldn't go into the "age 21 and up only" audience of drinkers. Not that he felt like mingling anyway, especially since Daryl and Irene tended to get very couple-y at gigs like this once their set was done.

"It's just that my friend said... and you're the drummer, I heard that..." she trailed off, looking disappointed.

"I don't know your friend, or what you heard. Sorry." He pushed by, heading for the dressing room. "Uh, Happy New Year," he called back, not wanting to leave a bad taste in someone's mouth, even if that someone seemed to be a misinformed would-be groupie. _Groupie, huh? Should send her to Tyler..._ and as the door closed behind him he realized that was probably who she was looking for, the old drummer for _Dance Hall Daze_. Or at least she'd confused him with stories she'd heard about Tyler. He shook his head and grabbed his bag.

Scott was already there, putting his gear away, and a moment later Daryl and Irene joined them.

"Hey guys, look, before you say anything, I'm really sorry," Daryl said, stepping into the middle of the room, Irene hanging back looking concerned. "You were right, Scott, okay? I should have listened. And you guys are my fucking heroes tonight, especially you Finn, so..."

"So...?" Scott was somewhat mollified, but pressed for more.

"So we'll talk setlists more. More equitably, especially for the big shows. But next week, 'cause I'm beat and it's New Year's Eve."

Scott nodded. "Okay. But it's equitably, _period_. Just 'cause you're the frontman doesn't mean we work for you. We originally put this band together, you and I both, and you need to remember that. We've let things slide too much already."

Daryl frowned and closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked back at Scott. "I'll make it my New Year's Resolution. I'm sorry, Scott, I really am." He looked at the others. "Finn. Irene. All of you. I got carried away, I guess, and I'm sorry I've been an asshole about the numbers."

They were tired, and it was New Year's Eve, so they all left it at that for now.

* * *

_Okay, this was a really dumb idea_, Finn thought as he searched the back of the Times Square New Year's Eve crowd for Rachel. _There must be like a million people here, I can't find her in this. _Even knowing that she would have stayed at the far end, not wanting to be overwhelmed in the crowded pens closer to the stage, it still seemed impossible. He could see well, with his height, but she was too small for her head to stick out at all. He pulled his phone out and called her again, but there was no answer - it was probably far too loud for her to hear her phone. He left a message, hoping she'd at least get it before she left the area and they could still meet up. He had so wanted to start the New Year off the way he should, with her.

He still scanned the areas at the back, looking now for Sean Sinclair, who should be with her, having come back from upstate for this. He at least might be visible, even though likely Emily and certainly Rachel wouldn't be. And they would have stayed on Broadway, he was sure of that from what Rachel had said. The weather wasn't too bad, but the wind was cold, and he hoped she was staying warm. What hat might she be wearing?

_Five minutes left. Damn._

As had become tradition, someone came on to sing John Lennon's _Imagine_. (**)

_Imagine there's no heaven_  
_It's easy if you try_  
_No hell below us_  
_Above us only sky_  
_Imagine all the people_  
_Living for today_

Finn would swear he didn't hear Rachel, not to identify it as her voice. Yet somehow he felt it, felt the same as he felt when he did hear her voice. He had learned to trust that feeling. Somewhere, Rachel was singing.

_Imagine there's no countries_  
_It isn't hard to do_  
_Nothing to kill or die for_  
_And no religion too_

Finn closed his eyes and walked slowly at the back of the crowd, listening, and then he heard her.

_Imagine all the people_  
_Living life in peace_

He turned into the crowd, still holding onto the sound of her voice as he looked for her.

_You may say I'm a dreamer_  
_But I'm not the only one_  
_I hope someday you'll join us_  
_And the world will be as one_

There, ahead. He couldn't see Rachel, but he could see a red-headed man that he was sure was Sean, and on his shoulder leaned a green-hatted head with fluffy blond hair peeking out, presumably Emily. Finn pushed through the crowd as the song continued.

* * *

Rachel found New Year's Eve in Times Square to be overwhelming; even watching it on television in previous years had given her no sense of the massive scale of the whole thing, especially all the people. She had met up with Sean and Emily for dinner, happy that Sean had returned early from Syracuse and that Emily had come along with him for a few days. Emily was theoretically staying with Rachel in her dorm room, though this was just the plan for what to say and where she should go if she and Sean were caught by dorm security.

They hung back in the thinner part of the crowd, blocks away from the stage, Rachel in particular not comfortable with the sheer mass of people that would otherwise be crowding over her head. Even trying to move through a less dense crowd made her wish all the more that Finn was there, he found it so much easier to navigate with his height and would have made space for her. At least all the people around her blocked the wind.

She thought about Finn more and more as the night continued. Of course she knew he was playing tonight, and once more she had snarly thoughts about the paternalistic drinking laws that said someone was legally an adult in every way except being allowed to drink alcohol. Or even to go into a non wet-dry gig legally, it's not as if Rachel was interested in drinking, she just wished she'd been able to go hear Finn play, that the people hiring his band for gigs hadn't decided they were interested in an older-than-college crowd and thus had no interest in policing drinking other than at the door.

_Sigh. _She didn't resent Sean and Emily for their overt coupledom, not at all. She just missed Finn. For a few minutes she tuned out the act on stage and thought of Finn, of happier less-conflicted loving times together, imagining him with her.

Still an hour and a quarter to go. This was silly, she should be enjoying the excitement and fun of a Times Square New Year's Eve with her friends, not waiting for it to be over. So she chatted with Sean and Emily, asked more about Emily's upcoming classes, what they had done for New Year's Eve in years past, and enjoyed the show and the energy of the crowd.

Time passed, and then there were only five minutes to go before the New Year. Rachel gave her hopes and promises for the year one last mental touch.

The song leading into the countdown, _Imagine_, played, and Rachel started to sing along, verse after verse.

And she imagined, feeling herself as the dreamer, hoping beyond all else that the one she wanted to join her in her dreams would do so.

_Imagine no possessions_  
_I wonder if you can_  
_No need for greed or hunger_  
_A brotherhood of man_  
_Imagine all the people_  
_Sharing all the world_

_You may say I'm a dreamer_

Another voice came from behind her, harmonizing:  
_But I'm not the only one_

She felt its familiar touch, and turned to see Finn standing there, smiling as he sang with her, as if her immediate hope had been made manifest right there and then. Many others were singing too, even with only a fraction of the million plus throng in the Times Square area singing along there was still a mass of voices. But that didn't matter when they could sing together.

_I hope someday you'll join us_  
_And the world will live as one_

Sean and Emily turned as Rachel took the last step to bounce into Finn's arms.

"You're here!" Rachel squealed. "What about your gig?"

"My part was done, they weren't my drums, so... here I am." He grinned down at Rachel, but when she leaned up to kiss him he turned his head to avoid her. "It's counting down. Let's wait." He looked over her head and nodded hello to Sean and Emily, who nodded back.

"Okay," Rachel pouted. They turned towards where the screen showed the ball dropping, all lit up. Confetti already swirled in the air. Finn put one arm around Rachel's shoulders, taking her other hand.

10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

_Happy New Year!_

All around them people kissed, couples, friends in circles, even total strangers.

Finn cupped Rachel's face in his hands. "Here's to a much better twenty-thirteen," he said, and she knew he was thinking of all the problems they had had in twenty-twelve. He leaned down, kissing her softly, surely, gradually becoming firmer as she responded; but still no less tender, a kiss that thoroughly cherished her. She returned the kiss in kind.

They broke apart to find Sean and Emily studiously ignoring them, arms wrapped around each other. Finn cleared his throat.

"Oh, are you done?" Sean asked airily, and Rachel wrinkled her nose at him. He laughed. "Cool that you could make it, Finn. How'd you find us, anyway?"

Finn looked down at Rachel, giving her a private smile. "I heard you," he told her.

"You heard me singing along?" she asked, looking for confirmation.

"Well at first I felt you singing along. Once I was closer, I heard you."

"You _felt _her singing?" Sean was skeptical.

"Yeah. Maybe I heard her and didn't know I did, sort of sub-, uh..."

"Subliminally," Rachel put in.

"Yeah. Subliminally." He looked down at Rachel again, then back to Sean. "I could just tell she was singing, and I followed it." Sean still looked skeptical, but Emily smiled.

"How was your gig?" Rachel asked.

"Good. A bit of trouble, the place was too hot and Daryl started to fade, but we covered." Finn looked a bit sheepish. "I got an unexpected solo, sang a slow number while he took a break. Couldn't tell if the crowd figured it out that it was improvised, so that's good."

"That's wonderful," Rachel insisted, beaming at him. She always loved to hear of his success, though now more than ever she wished she'd been able to be there. "I wish I could have heard you, but I know you were great, you're never not. And now more people will know that, too." She squeezed his arm. "The doors are opening, I'm sure of it."

They stood back, out of the way of the masses of people milling about, then decided to walk slowly back out of the crowds. The show was over and Rachel didn't want to stay any longer; she was tired, but she also didn't want to go back to her dorm yet. She felt the need for more Finn-time, and she nestled closer to him as they walked slowly behind the other two.

"Why don't you come home with me and sleep over?" Finn asked hesitantly, turning down to her. "I'll sleep on the couch, no problem, then you'll be there and we can spend the whole day together tomorrow. Santana's off as well, we can all hang out. Maybe go to the diner where I work, they're really nice people and it won't be busy." He tugged at her hand a little. "It's not like you haven't slept there before."

Rachel blushed. "Santana told you, huh?"

"She didn't have to. I know what a bed you've slept in smells like. At first I thought maybe I was imagining it, but I also know what your tomato sauce tastes like. Thank you for the food, by the way."

"I'm sorry. I know I should have asked, I just didn't want to - I don't know, accelerate anything. And I was sort of stuck there, Santana was called into work and I couldn't lock the deadbolt if I left."

"And now?"

Rachel thought about it. It was true that she was a lot more comfortable with him again, his arms around her now felt like they should. And she definitely didn't want to say goodnight, not now. But there was no way he would be fine on the couch, it was too short for him. Maybe... _hmm. _"I'll need a toothbrush," she said. Her clothes would do for tomorrow, she figured, at least with the commemorative "NYE in NYC Times Square" tee she'd bought earlier. "I'm sure I can pick one up someplace."

"An advantage of living in New York," Finn commented, and he was right, it was a lot simpler to change plans suddenly when there wasn't a "closing time" on the city.

"Emily," Rachel called ahead to the blonde girl, and hurriedly explained the change of plans to her and Sean. She handed over her dorm keys. "I'll see you tomorrow night if not before." Then she gave each of her friends a goodnight hug, and walked off with Finn to buy a toothbrush and catch the B line out to Brooklyn.

* * *

The subway was crowded, as expected, and they were very relieved to finally be able to get off. As they walked hand-in-hand along the street to Finn and Santana's apartment, Rachel had made her decision, and she tugged Finn to her. "Finn," she said, "I know the couch is too short for you."

"I'll manage. I wouldn't want you to."

"No, I meant..." she bit her lip. "You should come to bed. If you want to. To sleep." She felt comfortable in his arms now, she thought she could manage this.

He caught her wording and stopped walking, turning to look at her. "Are you sure?" She nodded vigorously, smiling at him, and he closed to her for a sudden kiss, wrapping his arms around her. "I'll be good, I promise," he said. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with. We can just sleep."

"Together." It would be nice if they could just completely start anew for the New Year, but it was unrealistic. This step, though, she thought they could manage.

And Finn beamed at her, obviously happy. "Yes."

* * *

Santana wasn't home yet, and Finn said she was planning to be out very late, so he showed Rachel into his room. Rachel blushed, knowing that he knew she'd been here before on her own. He dug out a shirt for her to sleep in, the same one she had "borrowed" previously, though she didn't admit to _that_.

"I guess I should, uh, let you change," Finn said haltingly as he handed her the shirt.

"It's okay, I mean I don't mind if you see me, obviously..." He'd seen her before, many times, and she liked the thought of him looking at her body again. Though she liked it rather too much.

"Not obvious," Finn put in, looking startled at what she had said.

"Oh. Well I don't mind, not at all, it's _you _after all. I just don't want to be a tease." _For either of us_, she thought. _Perhaps I should tell him that too, so he knows. _"For either of us," she said. "It's not like I don't want to do more, I do, this isn't some sort of extended punishment or anything like that..."

"You're just not comfortable yet. I get it." Finn sighed.

"I don't _know_ that I'm comfortable yet. I don't want to start something I can't finish, that doesn't feel like it should. That doesn't mean I don't want to." She put a hand on his arm. "You understand?" _Please understand._

"Yeah." He sighed again, then exhaled sharply. "Yes, I understand. Well my brain understands, there's a part of me that doesn't understand but, well, I'll just, uh, go deal with it." Finn's face was flushed red, and he grabbed his sleep shirt and pants from the bed and left.

_Well that sort of reaction is inevitable,_ Rachel thought. _And if I think about him looking at me..._ she quickly banished those thoughts, far too arousing for the line they were currently drawing. _For now._ She smiled as she quickly changed into Finn's shirt. _For now, I can finally be where I've wanted to be since it happened. _For now she could pretend a little, like it hadn't happened at all, the blindside and the train station, the argument about New York two months before, the rapid wedding plans, any of those stressful disruptive things. She could just settle into Finn's arms where she belonged.

She stayed in the room until he returned from the bathroom, not wanting to get thrown by thinking about what he was doing in there. After a while he knocked and she let him in while heading to wash up herself, finally returning to find him under the covers, waiting for her.

"You still like that side, right?" he asked softly. She nodded and got in, a little disappointed when it became clear he was staying on his side. As much as he could under the circumstances; given the relative sizes of Finn and the bed, his "side" needed to be more than half.

_Does he need to stay away? Or does he think I need him to? _Rachel wondered. She turned to him and touched his far arm, seeing his eyes look at her with puzzlement in reaction. He definitely seemed to be holding back. "I'm okay with..." she trailed off, giving a vague gesture that was meant to be him moving his arm. "If you want to."

A shy smile broke out on his face. "Okay," he replied, and apparently he did understand what she meant, or simply very much wanted the same thing himself, because he turned onto his side, moving closer, putting his arm around her as she turned away to fit herself against him.

Rachel breathed slowly, relaxing, it all feeling _right. _"This feels so good," she whispered.

Finn turned the light by the bed off. "Yeah," he whispered back. "I love you, Rachel."

"I love you, Finn." She turned her head back for a light kiss, and soon they were both asleep.

* * *

_* "The Flame", as performed by Cheap Trick, written by Bob Mitchell and Nick Graham.  
** "Imagine", as performed and written by John Lennon.  
_

* * *

_Please review!_


	18. Shifts

Finn awoke, happy but unsettled, feeling pain in his hands. It took a moment for him to remember the situation; Rachel was asleep in his arms, that didn't seem at all unusual, though his brain told him that it was, that no this wasn't in the future he had imagined where they lived together, but something different. A future with hope but no promises. And his hands - she had her own twisted so tightly in his that they hurt. He couldn't see how she was still asleep, but she was, despite how desperately she was pulling at him. The happy feeling he'd had on awaking with her in his arms, which had already started to diminish on remembering it was the first time since May, vanished entirely on sensing how agitated she was.

A bad dream, he guessed. And she needed him.

She moved a little then, so he whispered her name. "Rach?"

"No don't go..." Her hands moved up his arms to pull them more tightly around her, and he heard her sob. "Finn, please..."

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," Finn whispered, trying to quiet her agitation. He managed to stop himself from yelping as her nails dug into his muscles.

"Please don't leave me, it always hurts so much..." His heart wrenched at the sadness in her voice, the sheer misery. Worse still was knowing that he'd put it there, that despite how well things had been going the pain he'd caused her was still there. It might always be there.

Maybe spending the night together hadn't been a good idea - how would she feel tomorrow night, sleeping alone again? Abandoned? Would she ever be able to completely trust him again?

"Don't you understand..."

_Don't I understand what_, he wanted to ask, but he couldn't. He did his best to settle her, stroking her hair, even singing wordlessly a little in her ear. This last eased her, and soon she was sleeping normally again.

Sleep eluded Finn for a while longer, he was too torn about the obvious pain she still had, the fear that he would leave her again, and his own puzzlement over what she needed him to understand. That she loved him? It seemed to be much deeper than that. But he was still very tired from the gig, so he did eventually drift off again.

* * *

In the morning Rachel stirred. Like Finn, she wasn't confused at first with where she was, it seemed natural, but as she became fully conscious she remembered that this was the exception for them, not as things usually were. Just how tightly Finn's arms were wound around her was unexpected, however, and as soon as she moved he woke up.

"Oh. Hey," he said sleepily.

"Good morning," she replied, and as Finn's arms eased a little she wondered why they had been so tight. Had he been holding her tightly, afraid she was slipping away?

Finn turned his head to look at the clock - eight-twenty-one - and yawned. Rachel supposed it was rather early, considering how late they had been up the night before. Her body clock wouldn't let her sleep any later, though. "Did you sleep okay?" he asked, sounding tentative.

Rachel gave him a bright smile. "Oh yes. It... well, it felt rather natural."

"Oh. Uh yeah, me too."

Hesitant? Or not quite trusting her answer? She couldn't tell, but did her best to dismiss any negative thoughts in light of his shy smile. She gave him a quick light kiss; anything deeper was dangerous to try in bed. "Definitely the right way to start off the year," she said, and he agreed.

They lazed in bed a little longer, Rachel not wanting to break back into reality, Finn apparently content to simply stroke her hair.

Eventually a loud rap came at the door, followed by a yell. "You two are way too quiet!"

"What!" Finn called out, startled at Santana's accusation. "Too _quiet_?"

Rachel rolled onto her feet and started to stretch, then had to step back as Santana opened the door.

"Hey," Finn protested. "I didn't say come in."

"Oh, please," Santana said. "Like I said, too quiet. Nothing going on here to interrupt."

Rachel winced, then took a quick look at Finn, who was glaring at Santana. She had become a good friend, and Rachel could forgive her almost anything for having convinced Finn to stop giving up on himself, but the progress of their relationship was uncertain enough without having someone poking at it, however well meant.

"Well you were right," she said to Santana, making an attempt to defuse some of the tension.

"I was?"

Finn snorted. "You're surprised at being right?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Just surprised at it being acknowledged so easily," she replied, preening. She looked pointedly at Rachel. "About what, exactly? This time?"

Rachel did her best to meet Santana's eyes, hoping she wouldn't push further once she got the answer. "About it being better."

Santana smiled. "Told you you'd think so. Coffee?"

"Yes please."

Rachel decided the intrusion was welcome. It would be too easy to stay in bed with Finn, pretend that was normal; after his finding her in Times Square and giving her that soul-scorching kiss, her spending a night in his arms and seeing again how adorable he was in the morning, she so wanted it to be real, that this was how they lived and he wasn't capable of foolishly throwing it all away.

Either that or she needed to turn him into her sex slave and make sure he never could again.

_This was too fast, _Rachel thought, her nerves getting the better of her as she felt her need for Finn starting to overwhelm.

_Go get coffee._

* * *

They each got washed and dressed, then convinced Santana to come with them to the diner for brunch.

Finn talked a bit about the place as they came up to the door, how it had only been open since the late nineties but was sort of a 'revival' of an old place that had been in Brooklyn back in the fifties. Now, as then, it was called "John's Place". He showed the girls into what he claimed was the best booth, and draped his arm around Rachel as a black-haired waitress came up, a twenty-two-year-old art student that he'd gotten to know when they had shifts together.

"Hey Jamie," Finn said. "Didn't know you'd be on today, Happy New Year. Is Ronnie on too?" Ron Sanderson, Finn's fellow busboy, was a struggling actor and also Jamie Chong's boyfriend. The couple often worked similar shifts.

"Hi Finn," she replied with a weak smile. "No, Ron's not here." She seemed a little strange, maybe tired from being up late. "I suppose you don't have any questions about the menu."

Finn grinned. "You could give us the specials." He was teasing a little; there were always some new specials on the first day of the month, and it was a point of pride among the wait staff to have the full list memorized right away.

She rolled her eyes. "Our January specials are..." and she rattled off the list, her lips quirking a little as she finished. "Coffee?"

"God yes," Santana chimed in, apparently needing more after her very late night.

Finn added his own coffee to that, and as for Rachel - "There's a soy mocha," he told her. "People like it."

"Then I'll try it," Rachel replied with a smile, nodding at the waitress.

"Great. Oh, and Jamie, this is Rachel - Rachel, Jamie."

"Good to meet you at last, Rachel. And it's good to see you again, Santana. I'll be right back with your coffee." Jamie left, and Rachel turned to Finn.

"'At last'?" she asked, clearly curious.

"Well, sure. I talk about you a lot to them, ever since I started working here." He'd been more reluctant to talk about her to his bandmates, but the people at the diner had felt more like a family, and he'd needed someone to talk to from the start.

"If you play your cards right you can probably get some extra waffles or fruit or something," Santana suggested, only half-joking, then Jamie came back with the coffee.

They ordered, teasing Finn a little to try to get him to tell them what he liked best there (and about his appetite), then talked more as they waited.

"Hey Finn, a minute?" John Brown, the diner's owner, beckoned to him from behind the counter.

"Sure." Finn excused himself and followed John into the back.

"Are you available for more shifts in the next week or so?" John asked, looking tense.

"Uh, yeah. That'd be good actually, the band's got a lull right now."

John blinked, apparently not expecting this answer. "Does that mean you can do Thursday? Please say you can," he pleaded.

"Yep. I can do anything in the next week, actually."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man, I knew we could count on you."

Finn frowned a little at this; he wasn't giving anything else up, he was available because his other stuff was drying up. _At least it's good for someone, I guess, _he thought. "What about Ronnie?" he asked, knowing that Ron usually took Thursdays; while they often swapped other shifts, everyone knew that Finn was normally busy with the band.

"Ron just went back to Oklahoma. Couldn't take the struggle any more, apparently. Might be some family stuff too, he didn't say."

"Really?" Finn was shocked. He looked over at Jamie, who was talking to a new table of customers, regulars he'd seen quite a few times before. _Shit, no wonder she's acting weird. And I asked her if he was here. Crap. _And it wasn't as if Ron had deep ties to Oklahoma, he'd been an army brat and didn't feel all that much at home anywhere, he had said.

When Jamie came back to the counter a few moments later, Finn went to talk to her.

"Hey," he said quietly. "John told me about Ronnie. I'm so sorry, Jamie."

Jamie gave him a tight smile, the sort that he knew was there so she could stop herself from crying. "Just one of those things, I guess. I thought we were doing well, he said he loves me, but he'd been trying for two years to break in, and he just..." she sighed. "I guess it wasn't enough." She swallowed. "So that's your Rachel, huh? She seems great."

"She's amazing." He looked at Rachel as she sat there, chattering happily to Santana. There was still no evidence of her earlier nightmare, maybe she just didn't remember it at all but Finn sure did, remembered her panic and fear that he was going to leave her again. He was now feeling some fear himself, at least that the trauma he'd given her was never going away, that he wasn't going to be able to fully earn her trust back even though he knew she wanted it. Maybe she would lose that fear of abandonment if he was doing better, but hearing that Ronnie had gone back home got to him, an up-close reminder of just how tough what he was trying to do was. New York chewed up and spit out struggling actors and musicians on a regular basis, he was trying his best but there was no guarantee it would ever be good enough.

Finn slid back into his place next to Rachel.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Finn replied. "Just talking about shifts. The band's in a slow period right now so I can pick up more work here." He knew he was being evasive, but what he said was true even though kind of general. The last thing he wanted to tell Rachel about was how Ron had bailed on his own girl and dream and headed back home. _They didn't have what we have,_ he told himself. _We're special, worth fighting for._

* * *

January second was the day Rachel took possession of the apartment that she had found for herself and Kurt. Finn was due at the diner in the afternoon, so he brought his truck over in the morning to help Rachel move. He figured he'd be doing most of the work, if not all, but he was surprised (pleasantly at first, then just confused) by how steadfastly Rachel insisted on carrying many of her own boxes.

He became kind of put out about it, actually - he liked carrying stuff for Rachel, it made him feel useful and it reminded him of that time she'd first called him chivalrous. The first time anyone had called him chivalrous or anything like that. Sure it was good that she was being all independent and trying to take care of her own things, but as she nipped quickly up and down from her old dorm with boxes in her arms, Finn was starting to feel less like her boyfriend and more like a guy with a truck.

Confusion gave way to concern when she almost freaked out at him for picking up one particular box, box 0. Of course all of her boxes were numbered, and she had a list carefully giving the contents of each one (mostly clothes and some books, since she was moving from a dorm into a partly furnished apartment she didn't have much else, but they were all sorted and classified). She was Rachel Berry, she was organized. But mostly only computer geeks numbered from zero, as far as Finn knew, so it was the wrong kind of weird for Rachel. And he got a brief look at her list, which started with _1_.

Still there was that box, sealed up like the others, with just her name and a big black oval written on it.

"What's the zero mean?" he asked tentatively as she was taking it from his truck once they had reached her apartment.

"What? It's nothing," Rachel replied. Finn wasn't sure if she was telling the truth, covering something up, or just making a really bad joke.*

Probably the second, or at least it was something private. Finn didn't like her hiding any part of her life from him, but he was the guy who'd said that their lives weren't ready to be together yet, so he supposed he shouldn't be picky about knowing everything.

When he said goodbye, leaving her on her own to unpack (and decorate to whatever extent she dared do before Kurt arrived in two days), it felt so wrong. It should have been them setting up an apartment together. Finn knew in his head this was better for them in the long run, at least he thought (_or is that hoped?_) it would be, but that didn't stop it from hurting to leave her. And he knew she felt it too, even more than he would, she would have imagined it more.

"Someday," he murmured as he bent to kiss her. _Someday it'll be us._

* * *

Two days later Kurt arrived, his flight carefully timed so he was at the apartment for an hour before the van with his things showed up. Rachel welcomed him with an excited hug and showed him around, then got out of the way of the two burly delivery men as they dropped off boxes and what Kurt considered to be his essential furniture.

Kurt unpacked, griped about the decor, and then they shared a meal of Chinese takeout in their new place.

"I know I've said it a few times already, but I've missed you so much Kurt," Rachel said as she came back from putting the leftovers into the fridge.

"But not as much as you missed Finn," Kurt teased.

"That's different, a different sort of missing and one I didn't expect to have." She sighed and leaned against the wall. "Someday, eventually, I'm always going to have to miss you, we'll be talking regularly but maybe only seeing each other every other weekend or something like that, even if we're in the same city."

"Ooh, life marching on," Kurt said with a mock grimace. "Let's not break up before we have to."

Rachel chuckled at his comment, but pressed on with her thought. "I wasn't supposed to have to miss Finn at all, I never wanted to, and of course how it happened I was so not ready to. Things still aren't the same again, not after..." She trailed off, not wanting to sink into the past again, then composed herself. "And I miss him even now, miss how we used to see each other every day without even trying, how we were together." All those touches and kisses as they passed each other in the McKinley halls, that indescribably wonderful feeling of Finn simply being _there_. At least they could hold each other now, those times when they were actually together.

"And now you have to try."

"Now we both have to try. And _schedule_, he's working most evenings and Saturdays, and I usually have school during the day. It's like normal dating, I suppose, but we never did that before, we were just together and it felt so good to be together. Of course it's worth it, he's worth all the effort and more, though I wish he understood that, it's just that we almost have to remember to talk and we didn't before. I don't really feel like I know his life, not to have a secure sense of it. And that's _so_ hard." She sat down again next to Kurt on the couch. "Sort of like a long distance relationship, actually. You might find the same happening with Blaine, now that you're here, but having had the gap, having not talked to each other at all and just figuring out how to do it again, that makes it even harder."

"A long distance relationship with someone living in Brooklyn. You've become a true Manhattanite." Kurt's face was serious, but his tone was still teasing. "So when are the schedules going to align again? I saw him over Christmas but I'd like to see him in his new habitat."

"Well he's working tomorrow at the diner so we could go see him there," Rachel said. "We went there New Year's Day, the food's really good and his coworkers are nice."

"Sounds like a plan."

They put the plan into practice the next day, and ended up arriving just before the end of Finn's Saturday shift. He was happy to see them, introduced Kurt as his brother to the other staff, and then took them back to his apartment to include Santana in their little reunion.

* * *

NYADA started back on the first Monday in January, with everyone milling in the halls early to check the course placement lists.

After the more general and introductory fall courses, the freshmen were now being added to the technique courses; courses for singing and dancing and acting that were grouped by ability, not year. Their work in the fall had been assessed, and finally they were receiving their placements, lists posted at the door of each department head. One of their fellow students had asked why it wasn't just done electronically, and the secretary's reply was simply "this is how it's done", which was probably true for theater in general, so they should get used to it. Sophomores and up were only glancing at the lists, mostly expecting where they were placed, but for the freshmen this was a new and nerve-racking thing. Each year still had its group classes, mostly for working on recital material and keeping their sense of cohesiveness, but the technique classes were critical.

Rachel met up with Sean for coffee beforehand, and they checked the lists together, cups still in hand. Rachel was gratified to see that she and Sean had both placed into level Two for Dance, after all their hard work in the fall. For Acting she was just in level One, with Sean in Two; he had far more experience, she told herself. Finally they came to the Voice list. They checked the level Two list, finding Sean but not Rachel, but then Sean gave her a nudge and pointed to the list on the right; Rachel had made the level Three class.

She hugged him delightedly, excited.

"Congratulations," Sean said. "Well deserved, you'll do great." Then something at the top of the list caught his eye. "Hey, the first class is in thirty-five minutes in Auditorium Five, you'd better get going soon."

Rachel checked the posted note, then the time, and yes, given that it could take ten minutes to get to Aud 5 she didn't have all that long. She was the only freshman in Voice Three, presumably that was why it started right away. "We have a little time," she replied, pulling Sean out of the way so that the last few freshmen could check the lists.

They went to a study area down the hall and finished their coffee while comparing schedules, and then Rachel hurried off across campus to Aud 5. It wouldn't do to either be late or out of breath for her first vocal technique class.

Aud 5 was in the Samuel S. Shubert Building, one of NYADA's oldest, though the interior had been completely renovated several years ago. Rachel ascended the stairs to the main entrance as carefully as she could, mindful of the frost that lay over the stone.

"Careful," male voice came from behind her, and she turned to see a man who seemed to be in his late twenties, relatively tall, with a ruddy complexion and reddish-brown hair. He was carrying what appeared to be a laptop bag. "These steps used to take out a few every winter." His voice was deep and musical.

Rachel gave him a smile, then thanked him as he opened the door for her. "Used to?" she inquired.

He smiled back. "Back when I was a student here."

"You aren't now?" Not that she thought he was quite that young. They walked inside; he also seemed headed for Aud 5.

"Not officially, at least not here." He put his hand out. "James Griffiths. And you're Rachel Berry, right?"

Rachel shook his hand briefly, a little unsure whether she should be flattered or intimidated that this complete stranger knew who she was. She knew all of the professors on sight, and anyway he was too young. "Yes, that's right."

He chuckled. "Don't look so confused. I saw the recitals in December, and Professor Carmichael had me review all of the samples for the students in this class. As a freshman at this level, you should expect to be memorable." They arrived at the Aud 5 door, which he unlocked and opened for her. "I'm your TA. Voice Three, and I'll be helping with the freshman group class as well. You're early, take a seat while I set a few things up."

Rachel thanked him quietly and sat down in the middle of the front row. She watched him, curious, as he took out the laptop and connected it to the auditorium's sound system.

"So... you said 'not here'?" Rachel asked. "You're a student somewhere else?"

"NYU," he said, still doing something with the computer. "Grad student." He glanced up at her. "I'm studying acoustics for my Masters, working with one of the profs there with Carmichael as adjunct." He leaned back, apparently finished with whatever he had been doing, as other students started to arrive. He gestured at the computer. "That's what this is for, acoustic mapping and audio analysis. The high-tech approach to understanding vocal production."

Professor Carmichael came in then, a tall woman in her early fifties. She talked to James for a few minutes, and then started the class, welcoming everyone to Voice Three and introducing herself and the TA.

As Professor Carmichael explained, Voice Three started with work on voice production techniques, and for this reason they were all going to be recorded singing a standard sample phrase. They would be given feedback both from sample analysis and from the expert assessment of the professor, and rerecordings later in the term would be used to help chart progress. From her repeated emphasis on "partly" and "help", the professor obviously wasn't entirely sold on the use of the technological analyses, but she was giving them a try while clearly retaining her control over how she conducted and assessed her class.

Rachel thought about it as she waited her turn, as thirty or so sophomores and juniors went up to be recorded one at a time, the others waiting in silence. Certainly it wasn't what she was used to, and she was glad the professor was only using it as a tool, she wouldn't want her voice and art to be judged by a computer. But as always, if there was something that might have a positive impact on her voice, ultimately Rachel was willing to try it.

She found her thoughts echoed by a classmate as they left after class.

"It's a bit peculiar but I'll try anything," the young man next to her said, then laughed as she looked at him. He was a little older, one of the juniors; pale skin and hair, flamboyant, almost surely gay. "Well almost anything." He rolled his eyes melodramatically, then smiled at her. "I'm Morris. And you're the freshman, right? Though not an actual fresh man, because that would be too lucky for me."

"Yes. Rachel."

"Great, now I'm being lapped by babies." But he still smiled, clearly poking fun at himself. "Acting's more my forte, I swear. It's been hard work getting this far in Voice, I used to think I was so good but it's a whole new piefight here. And now it's a high-tech piefight, so much the stranger."

Rachel laughed along and walked with him down the hall. He seemed fun, and with the class full of older students it was good to find someone who might become a friend.

* * *

That afternoon, the four members of _Dance Hall Daze _got together at Daryl and Irene's house to discuss songs and the setlist.

Irene confirmed the bad news that she had already texted to Scott and Finn: _The Invisible Hand _didn't expect enough business in the first few months of the year to keep the band for their regular Thursday night gig. What they wanted, instead, was a hiatus, with a big Valentine's Day night show (conveniently a Thursday) and back to the weekly gigs sometime in March.

"Are they paying us more?" Scott asked.

"Twice the usual, since they want two full sets," Irene said.

"Shouldn't it be better than that?" Finn offered. "I don't know anything about these things, but there'll be a lot more prep, right? And a bigger audience? It's a real show."

"And they're expecting us to _not _play other places in between," Scott continued, nodding at Finn in agreement.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, sounding thoughtful. "I didn't think about it before, but they're right," he said, looking at Irene. "They're trying to make more money on the big show, building interest by not having us play other weeks - they owe us some of that. Or we should go somewhere else in the interim."

"Except there won't be somewhere else in the interim," Scott commented drily.

"Yeah, but they're still taking advantage of us," Daryl said, and they all nodded. "Plus with a longer show they'll sell a lot more drinks and food, people won't be just having one and going somewhere else."

Irene sighed. "All right, I'll talk to the _Hand_," she said, and the others gave their usual chuckle at her way of putting it. "Maybe see what better deal they'll give us if we agree to not play elsewhere, since we won't anyway."

Finn frowned. "You mean as a band? Or us?"

"What do you mean?" Daryl asked.

"Just - I'm trying to get other work. Drumming. Not things that would get in the way of this, but -" Finn tried to explain.

"Same here, trying to build a career, remember?" Scott put in.

"Well it would be the band, that's all I could commit anyway," Irene answered. "But I'll be careful."

Daryl shrugged. "Not that you'll get anything," he stated.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" Scott bristled a little. "You think I can't find other bands and gigs?"

"Scott, it's January." Daryl looked over at his friend. "That's all. It's always the same, people blew their money on Christmas and don't go out as much."

"New York doesn't close up shop just because it's January," Scott grumbled, but he did seem to back away from it.

Putting aside the money issue for the time being, Daryl pulled out a few lists of songs, and they started working on the setlist. This was the first time Finn had been in on this process early; for the others, the list was mostly determined, from past shows or wishlists of the others, and he just added some input as asked. This time there still seemed to be a larger set that they were picking from, Daryl going through a collection of old setlists and picking out types of songs, starting with the fast ones, and talking about whether or not they should do them.

Maybe it was the way they'd always done it - but maybe the way they'd always done it didn't work that well, given the near-disaster for New Year's Eve and that Daryl wasn't serious about music full-time but still controlling song selection. Besides, this show would be bigger than anything they'd done, longer certainly. _Doesn't it need, I don't know, some overall shape? A plan for what to put where? _They were filling slots, Finn supposed. Maybe once they'd done that they would rearrange them to deal with how the mood needed to go and which songs led into others best, as well as pacing themselves for the full night, but picking songs without that in mind didn't seem like it would work. So he listened to Daryl run down the list, putting his two cents in as the others did, but noticing that Scott was getting sullen as they continued, with Daryl reacting to it.

Then eight songs in, Daryl started trying to sell "Run to You", and it all blew up.

"There's enough Bryan Adams already," Scott objected. "We need more diversity."

"There's _one _already," Daryl retorted. "Just 'Can't Stop'."

"Two once we put in 'Heaven', and for a V-Day show we have to." Scott frowned, his ire clearly building. "Even after what happened, you keep pushing the soloist stuff!"

"I don't -"

"Sure you do. And it's great for you, the song's designed to have the guitarist play and sing, but we're not your backup band. We need more diversity in instrumentation, in style, in _source_, and it's a crappy song for V-Day anyway because the guy is cheating, have you even _listened _to the words properly?" Scott was furious.

"And what are you suggesting instead? Bass lead? It's not like you sing," Daryl threw back, matching Scott's anger with some sniping of his own. Finn groaned mentally, seeing the whole thing practically fall apart in front of him. Daryl and Scott were the backbone of the band, they'd been playing together even before Daryl had met Irene.

"Come on, you two, this is ridiculous," Irene interjected. "Both of you know each other's strengths cold, you could practically pick songs for each other at this point."

Scott and Daryl both frowned, but her comment gave Finn an idea. "Why don't you do that?" he said. They all turned and looked at him. "We scrap the old setlists, completely, I mean we'll put stuff in from the repertoire later, but let's start fresh, and you pick songs for each other. There's time, right?" They looked at him in silence, but they didn't seem to be completely recoiling from it, so he pushed on. They desperately needed a new approach if they were going to get away from this argument cycle. "Daryl, pick three songs you think would be ones Scott can shine on, and Scott, you do the same for Daryl." This was kind of make-or-break, if either of them didn't do it seriously it would make things worse, but he hoped they'd be willing to do it right.

"Three?" Daryl looked skeptical, but at least he was calming down.

"Sure, you have to be able to make some choice yourself, right? And we need to build an overall setlist. It's something to pick from. And we each come up with a couple, whether we've done them before or not, that we think are good for everyone. Ones we can build around."

Scott, at least, looked accepting. "And we each come up with a song or two that we're not in that much ourselves," he said. "A 'give yourself a break' song." He nodded. "Bring them all together, pick from them and fill in the rest from the repertoire."

"Well I like it," Irene said, "it'll shake things up and help us progress. They're not going to want the same-old same-old, not for a big party like that." It went quiet, and all eyes went to Daryl.

He looked thoughful, then nodded and met Scott's eyes. "Okay," he said. He smiled at his old friend. "I think I can pick some great stuff for you, man. It'll get us thinking differently, anyway, and we've got a little time to work on it. But," he continued, looking from Finn to Irene and back, "you two have to do it as well."

_Oops. _Finn exchanged a glance with Irene - they didn't know each other's styles and abilities nearly as well as Daryl and Scott.

"Sure thing babe," Irene replied, turning her head to look at Daryl. "We'll do it too, right Finn? I'll pick three for you and you pick three for me."

"Uh, yeah, sure thing," Finn echoed, while his mind was still thinking _Crap. _This was going to be hard, he never listened that much to the sort of music Irene usually sang, unless Rachel was doing it. Maybe Rachel could help him, at least brainstorm some suggestions.

"And remember, everyone, songs for couples," Irene emphasized. "No completely unrequited love, no I-still-miss-you or I-wish-I-was-with-you-instead, people can be in different stages of their relationship but it's safe to assume everyone will be on a date of some kind. Slow stuff is mostly pretty easy, so see what you can find that's upbeat." She looked around at everyone, but Finn winced internally. She was right, the big love ballads were easy to come by; they'd need a lot of faster material. But Irene had mostly been singing slower songs, so his task had just gotten a whole lot harder.

_Like everything else._

* * *

_* the "zero"/"nothing" joke is based on one from the classic Wayne & Shuster sketch "The Mark of Zero".  
_

* * *

_Please review!  
_


	19. Doldrums

_A/N: Contains spoilers for the plot of "A Star is Born", any and all versions.  
__Under the circumstances I'm trying to pick up my writing pace.  
_

* * *

On Wednesday, Rachel had finished putting away her notes at the end of the Voice Three class when she heard her name.

"Rachel?" James called out to her. "Could I please talk to you for a few minutes?"

"Sure." She closed her bag and went to where he sat with his laptop. "What is it?"

"I want to show you something." He pressed a few keys, doing something with the program he was running; she looked over his shoulder at the screen, and saw a moving graphical representation marked "Frequency Analysis". The animation concluded. "What do you think that is?" he asked.

"I -" Rachel scrambled to think of something, not wanting to seem like a fool. "It's some sound you're analyzing, right?" She cringed as she heard herself say that, it sounded so lame. "I really have no idea," she admitted. "It seems very clean, or maybe that's the program." The animation had moved very smoothly, more than most of the graphic equalizers that she'd seen before, but that was all she could tell.

"It is very clean actually." He waited, but so did Rachel, not having a clue what he was showing it to her for. After a moment he smiled. "That's your voice sample, from Monday."

Rachel's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yep." James pressed a button on the application marked "Play", and the animation started again, this time with sound, and yes that was her own voice. He closed the application as it finished. "Of course the assessment is up to Professor Carmichael, and she will have things to say about your voice production that go far beyond this and hit other aspects, but your voice is unusually clean. It seemed likely from hearing it, but here's the proof."

Rachel pressed her hand to her chest, absorbing the compliment. "That's... thank you so much for showing me this, that's wonderful to know," she said.

"I'd be interested in knowing why. How you do it, I mean." James shrugged. "It's my field, and connected to my research, I think you'd be an excellent test subject." He motioned her to sit next to him.

"Test subject?" Rachel was confused, again, but sat down as indicated. "For what?"

"I'd be interested in doing a throat mapping, if you're willing."

"A _throat mapping_? You would actually -" she frowned. "You would put something down my throat to map it?" Compliment aside, she didn't like the sound of that.

James chuckled. "No, we do this from the outside, using sound. You would need to sing, like you did on Monday."

She was intrigued. "How do you do that?"

"It's the same as we did in class, the audio pickup, but we also use a throat mic to directly capture your throat vibrations. It's really cool actually, we can reconstruct how your voice resonates by comparing the two of them." He paused, watching Rachel as she thought about it, her interest rising. "So how about it? We'd do it here, to be consistent, and I should be able to get Professor Carmichael to book the room for me for after Friday's class."

To actually have her voice studied... Rachel couldn't turn that down. "All right," she said, nodding. "Let's do it."

* * *

Finn's extra hours at the diner were starting to take their toll when Thursday rolled around. Not only was the work boring, even more massively boring with there being more of it, but working there instead of playing a gig felt like such a step back, and it was hard to resist his frustration with it. Especially when he was covering Ron's old shift, with that reminding him just how futile the whole "breaking in" fight usually was.

Not that he needed a reminder. Even before New Year's Eve, and definitely since then, Finn had redoubled his efforts at finding more drumming work. Pounding the pavement, cold-calling, checking posters, ads, everything.

The effort was draining, especially on top of the extra shifts at the diner, and Finn's frustration built with every posted ad that turned out to have been left up long after it had been filled, every contact who said there was nothing, and every musician, representative, or organization that he remembered talking to before but seemed to have never heard of him at all.

Somehow worse than the ones who hadn't heard of him were the ones who had, or at least had (virtual) notes on him. (Try as he might, he never spotted any signs of being recognized.) They acknowledged him talking to them again, but it was clear there wasn't any interest; it's not like they didn't know about him or hadn't considered him, they just didn't have anything for him and didn't act like they ever would. One even went so far as to say "don't call us, we'll call you". Getting the cliche itself word-for-word would be worth extra drinks in "Rejection is a Bitch", but that was too depressing.

The cheers of the crowd at New Year's Eve for what he'd managed to pull off - that turned out to be worth exactly zero.

He got a little recognition when he bit the bullet and called a few of the other musicians he'd met at Daryl and Irene's Christmas party. Just to say "hey", Finn claimed, but he was trying to sound them out, for all the good it did him. They only seemed to want to talk about the party ("man, that was awesome") and he found himself wondering how serious any of them were about a music career, or if they were more like Daryl. Or if they'd just decided to not push themselves any more, settling for what they had, exactly what Finn couldn't afford to do. Not when he needed Rachel like he needed to breathe, he couldn't fall short in building a life where he could be with her. Not when he needed to prove to her _now _that he wasn't going to leave, the uncertainty was hurting her and hurting them.

Maybe Daryl was right and it was just how things were in January - but Daryl hadn't built things much more from year to year either, and despite trying neither had Scott.

_January __**sucks**__._

At least they had the Valentine's Day show, that was bigger. Maybe even big enough for them to get more interest, even if they were still just a cover band. If the whole thing didn't fly apart before then.

_January really fucking sucks._

* * *

Friday after Voice class Rachel hung back to meet with James.

"Any plans for the weekend?" a question came from beside her, and she looked up to see Morris, the junior.

"Not much," she replied, happy to get the friendly inquiry. Morris seemed really nice. "I'm seeing my boyfriend tomorrow night, but aside from that I'm spending a lot of time at home. Kurt, that's my roommate, he moved from Lima a week ago so we're making up for lost time."

"Living with a man _and _having a boyfriend?" Morris raised his eyebrow. "Do tell, I promise not to judge. Much."

Rachel giggled. "Kurt's my best friend from home. And he's gay."

"Ooh, really?" Morris lowered his head to her. "Might _he _be free tomorrow night?"

"You mean once he's finished talking to his boyfriend back home?" Rachel liked Morris, but she wasn't about to let him try something on Kurt, especially since she knew Kurt had been feeling lonely now that he couldn't see Blaine every day.

Morris pouted. "All the good ones are taken."

"You haven't even met him."

"Any good friend of yours is a potential good friend of mine." But Morris laughed, dropping the act. "It's all right, I just wanted to know if you had time to go out with me and some friends of mine. Girls. Straight girls, a couple of juniors in Voice Four, the three of us are planning to go to a coffeehouse open mic night and do something strange to liven it up. But since you've got a date..." he let it hang.

"Sounds like fun, maybe some other time. I don't get to see Finn that often, our schedules are too different." Rachel saw James motion to her from the front; he'd finished setting up the equipment, apparently. "Sorry, I have to go."

"Where going means staying here?"

Rachel laughed. "All right, so _you _have to go. James wants to do some sort of mapping thing on how I sing. Have a great time, see you on Monday." She nodded at him and then went up to the stage.

"Bye, Morris, please make sure the door's properly closed behind you," James called out after the retreating junior, then started to arrange the microphones for Rachel.

Rachel found the recording experience interesting. She had never sung with a throat microphone on her before, and had to concentrate on not letting her awareness of it alter her approach, or having the whole testing situation intimidate her. She took a deep breath and calmed herself, imagining the auditorium full of an appreciative audience, of course with Finn in the front row. Then she listened to James's relaxing voice quietly give her instructions, and she sang.

* * *

On Saturday Finn finished his shift at the diner, showered and dressed, then took the subway to pick up Rachel. They planned to go for dinner at the Goldman's on Ninth deli, followed by a walk.

"Finn!" Rachel welcomed him with a quick hug and kiss at the door, then led him into the apartment. "We're just finishing up watching 'A Star is Born' - Judy, not Barbra, I let Kurt have his choice. It's not too much longer, come join us."

"Yes, come in," Kurt called out from the couch, waving him over. "Come and see what I've done with the place."

_Join __**us**__? Aren't we going on a date?_ Not that he wanted to be all "you should be ready on time" about it, and of course it was good to see Kurt, but _still_.

Finn took a deep breath, calming himself. "Sure." Rachel looked ready, not that he was a good judge of that, he always thought she looked great but he was flattered that she made an effort. Low-cut shirt, curled hair, smoky eyes - this wasn't how she would have been for whatever she was doing earlier in the day (at least he thought not even though he didn't know what she'd been doing), so it was for him, and yeah he appreciated it all right. He'd appreciate it a whole lot more if it was just them.

He settled down on the couch next to her in the place she'd obviously left for him, put his arm around her, and glanced at the movie. It looked familiar, he'd been around some previous times when they'd watched it. _It's that one about the actress getting her big break and marrying the actor that helped her. Aren't there a few of those? _He let his mind wander a bit, not really interested in anything more except trying to figure out how much of it might be left. But as it went on, with the husband getting drunk and ruining his wife's big award win, dragging her career down because his had tanked and he couldn't handle it - Finn quickly became more and more uncomfortable, seeing his worst fears laid out for them to watch.

_And now he's offing himself. Fuck._ Finn glanced quickly at his girlfriend and his brother, both in tears at the movie. _Why the hell are they watching this? And we're supposed to be going on a __**date!**_ Finn tuned the rest out, he just couldn't take any more of that movie. _But "not much longer", bull._ He didn't begrudge them their bonding time - well actually he _did_, they should bond on their own time, they did live together after all. And they probably had that movie memorized by now. He went over what he remembered of his text exchange with Rachel - maybe he hadn't actually used the word "date", but he thought he'd meant it or said something similar.

Eventually he felt Rachel move from the circle of his arm, and he looked up to see the credits rolling. _Finally. _Quite aside from his annoyance at the delay and the dreadful movie, Finn was hungry.

Rachel gave him a light kiss. "Just give me a few minutes to fix my makeup, and I'll be all ready." With that, Rachel went into her room, leaving Finn with Kurt.

"So how's the internship so far?" Finn asked. Since he was waiting he might as well catch up.

"I am close to perfecting my coffee-carrying skills," Kurt answered, then sighed. "It's not much yet, but I knew that. I'm still right where the action is, and they did pick me supposedly based on my portfolio so I expect they'll care about my opinion sooner or later. And I should be able to get a few free clothes, there's a men's line too. They might even have some in your size, if you're interested."

"Probably not my thing, but thanks."

"You never know until you try. And, _free_."

They talked for a little longer about their jobs and their parents, then Rachel returned. "All ready to go," she proclaimed, then did a twirl at Kurt's request.

"Charming yet sexy," Kurt stated, giving his verdict, and Rachel blushed. "Don't muss her up," he warned Finn.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he overheard Rachel's whisper of protest: "Kurt! As I told you, proper appreciation is essential." He didn't know quite what she meant in this case, but it sure sounded like she was saying she wanted to him to muss her up, and he liked the sound of that. After all, her boyfriend finding her sexy and acting accordingly should be worth a lot more than it being said by her gay roommate. (Unlike if it was said by _his _gay roommate, since somehow they'd ended up divided by what gender they were into.)

Once they'd left the apartment, Finn looped his arm over Rachel's shoulders, and she leaned into him as they walked.

"I'm sorry about taking so long," Rachel said softly. "Kurt's been feeling really lonely, without Blaine, and, well, I know what that's like."

Finn's guilt surged up again, both at being the reason why Rachel knew what it was like, and also at not thinking about how Kurt was feeling, sure they'd talked about what they were up to but there was obviously more than that going on.

"He was there for me when I needed him, so I was sort of repaying the favor when he suggested we watch something. Not that we keep track or anything like that."

This mention turned Finn's two pieces of guilt into a massive guilt conglomeration, given that Kurt being there for Rachel had been to help put her back together after what Finn himself had done. He tried to put it out of his head; they were on the date now, they needed to have a good time, especially since they didn't see each other that much.

* * *

They were just arriving at Goldman's when Rachel's phone rang, and she checked it quickly. "It's my dad," she said, excusing herself to Finn as she answered it.

_Another delay._ Finn tried to conceal his frustration as he watched her turn away from him. Sure, it was great that she was answering her calls from her dads now, they were getting along better, and he felt good that he'd helped with that. But this was the one time he'd been able to see her that week, was it asking too much for the rest of the world to let him have her attention for it? Or for her to actually _act _like he was the most important thing to her like she said he was?

While he waited he took his phone out and checked his texts. Okay, there was his conversation with Rachel setting up tonight, he'd asked her if she wanted to go to Goldman's and then for a walk together. And there he'd said he'd be there by six... should he have put that differently? It was painful to have to get so picky about exactly what words he needed to use. Before, "I'll be there by six" had led to him at her door just before six and her ready to leave with him. Of course that was before she lived with Kurt. Maybe he should say "date" a lot next time.

Finn stewed a little longer, waiting, starting to think about what he wanted to eat. Smoked meat, probably, the meat at Goldman's was good and also cheap. Finally Rachel was done, and they were able to go inside and be seated.

"Sorry about that too," she said, and Finn was glad to hear the _too_. "I'm trying to show them that I'm making an effort, since they are." She followed the seater to a booth, and slid over to the corner, motioning to Finn to sit next to her. "Thank you again for that," she added. "Quite a lot of what they're doing is because of what you said to them, they've told me as much."

"Just wanting you to be happy."

"Them too, that's why they told me. I think they're starting to get us, even, or at least that I'm always going to need you for that." She flashed him a small happy smile, then turned her attention to the menu.

Finn smiled too, his previous annoyance slipping away now that the distractions had gone. The appreciation was good, and he really liked the "always" part. He looked down at his menu as well, though he'd already decided what he wanted. "You're going to smell my food if we stay like this," he commented, though he liked feeling her next to him.

"And I'll taste it when I kiss you later," she replied matter-of-factly. "Please don't imagine that I mind."

_That's hot. Kinda weird, but hot. _"But by then I usually have dessert," he said, spinning it out further with a sideways grin.

Rachel slid her eyes over to him, looking a little impish. "Then I suppose I'll just have to kiss you before that to prove my point."

Finn chuckled. "Please don't imagine that I mind," he repeated back, getting a giggle from Rachel in return.

They ordered and talked quietly as they waited and then ate, about not all that much. Rachel talked a bit about how it had been with Kurt moving in, and how much she preferred things over the dorm; Finn talked about some of the people at the diner, and how Santana was doing. They made some general future plans, wanting to go to the Brooklyn Museum on its next free night if possible, Finn doing his best to use the word "date" whenever he could.

They were finishing up their meals when Rachel asked about the one thing Finn had stayed away from. "So how are things with the band?" she asked. "You haven't mentioned them at all recently, have you played again yet?"

"Actually I was kind of hoping to get your help on something for that," Finn said. He didn't want to get into his current frustrations, but the big show coming up was much more positive. "We're trying to pick songs for our gig on Valentine's Day -" he stopped as he felt Rachel flinch.

"Valentine's Day?" she asked, her voice small. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to brighten. "You have a show on Valentine's Day," she stated. "Valentine's Day _itself_."

"Yeah." Hadn't he told her? _Guess not. Shit. _"It's a big show, just us."

"And - and how long have you known this?"

"I don't know, the band's been talking about it for a while, since Christmas I guess, they kept throwing it out there without really telling me straight out but it's been set for a couple of weeks now." He hung his head, not wanting to look at her, see the hurt in her face. Though as usual it was worse hearing it in her voice. "It's the job, Rach. I have to. And like I said it's just us, the biggest we've done. I have to," he repeated, and he waited tensely for her to say something.

"I know," Rachel said eventually. "That's entertainment, right? Everybody else celebrates so it means we can't." She talked rapidly, the way she always did when her emotions were twisting her up and she was trying to lift her own spirits. "I suppose eventually I'll get used to it, not having Valentine's Day with you, not that I've ever been used to having it with you, unless you want to count that mess my dads put together -"

"- I don't," Finn interrupted. "Though you looked amazing. So beautiful. And Sugar's party was good." He left out the bit in the middle where they'd fought, though he knew she was thinking of it.

Rachel nodded. "Then we've never had one. Guess we -" she choked up. He put his arm around her, but she pulled back. "It's all right. I can go, it's not like I'm going to have other plans, I can go and watch you play and know that every song is really for me." She gave him a beaming smile, but he knew it was partly false. And it was going to go away as soon as he said what he had to say next.

"They are all for you. But -" he took a deep breath, watching her face fall. "It's at the bar." 21 and over only, the only reason they could let him in was that he was part of the act.

"Of course it's at the bar." She pursed her lips. "At least _that _problem will wear off after another few years."

"I'm really sorry. I'll make -" _stop, she hates the "make it up to you" stuff - _"I'll make some other time when we can do something romantic," he finished.

She had clearly caught what he had been about to say, however. "Only if you want to."

"Of course I want to." Privately he vowed to do something big, well it would have to be cheap but he needed one of those ideas he sometimes had that blew her away. Something simple and thoughtful and _right_. Set it up before Valentine's Day, so she wouldn't feel forgotten on the day itself. "Please understand."

"I do understand, at least my mind does, I know you have the gig and it's really important, and I know it's just a date on a calendar, just..." she pulled her far knee up onto the booth's bench, holding it tightly. "I'm disappointed. Just once I'd like to have a Valentine's Day where I don't cry over you."

And when she put it like that, yeah, it sucked all right. They'd sucked for him too, those days, and he wanted to be with her too this year, but he'd be busy and she wouldn't so it would be harder on her.

Still... "Just _once_?" They should have a lot more than once, he thought they'd have many more, didn't she?

"It would be a start."

They sat there in silence. Finn poked a little at the remains of his food, not that there was that much left but he didn't feel that hungry anyway. Didn't she know he was doing it for her? Okay, for himself too, but also for her, that they needed him to do this, especially if their lives together weren't going to turn into something like that damn movie. And he'd been really tolerant of all the delays today, some understanding back wouldn't be asking too much. They just needed to have more time together, maybe then these things wouldn't seem like such a big deal. Eventually he turned to her.

"Rach," he said softly. When she didn't react he called her again. "Rach, look at me." She turned her head up to face him, and he looked deeply into her eyes, trying to convey his sincerity that way. "I love you." _And we're going to get this, we have to, we're special you and me,_ he thought, still with his eyes locked on hers as if to give his thoughts and feelings to her without the words that tended to trip him up. _Please. _He held her eyes for a few moments more. "Okay?" he asked finally.

She gave him a small smile back. "Okay," she answered, nodding. Then she sank into his arms, hugging him tightly, almost with the death grip she used to have way back in sophomore year. Her back rose and fell, and he could both feel and hear her breathe as she deliberately inhaled him. "It's just an arbitrary date," she said, though with that tone of voice that showed she was mostly trying to convince herself. "And the weekend's right after, I'll have more time then anyway." She looked up at him. "You _are_ free that weekend, I hope?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"As far as I know," he said, doing his best to keep his voice easy. "I'll book off from the diner, and I doubt there'll be any other gig, so I'll be all yours."

Her head sank back down to his chest, and she tightened her hold on him again. "You'd better believe you are."

* * *

After Rachel's disappointment at hearing about the Valentine's Day gig, Finn didn't want to ask Rachel for song advice, it seemed too much like rubbing salt in the wound. Which, then, led to Finn spending the next morning browsing clips on iTunes and various YouTube videos, checking out potential songs for Irene.

He wanted to get some harder-edged stuff for her, something to show he was really thinking about it and stuff that would go better with the songs Daryl led. There was too much of a switch in style, Finn figured, though they couldn't lose the pop side entirely (especially since for a big show the one number that was a given was their "title" song, which he thought could make a good second set opener). One Madonna number was enough, probably "Cherish", so Irene needed to mix it up more. But as he listened to clip after clip of eighties-era women singing, they all just seemed too... depressed or pissed off. Not that assertive was a problem, but it needed to be on theme.

He tried Pat Benatar: "Hit Me with your Best Shot" - _No._ "Love is a Battlefield" - _Hell to the No, as Mercedes would say. _"We Live for Love" - _Way too high._ "We Belong Together" - _Kinda slow. Maybe._

Maybe he could find a guy song that would still work for her. Like Rachel might do, well had done several times, but Irene didn't have Rachel's power and flexibility to do her own take on the song's style. Or a woman-led band, not that there were many of those (_band_, not _girl group_). _Hmm._

Pretenders: mostly too low for Irene, though "Message of Love" was a good song if she could hack the range. Tempting to bring it up a bit for her, they could rearrange it and add harmony from Daryl or himself, but it could ruin the style.

Heart: "All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You" - _Eww, she's just after the dude's sperm. No freaking way._ "Crazy on You" - _Theme's mixed and it's too old._ "What About Love" - _Way too much pleading._ "Alone" - _Stalkerish. Kinda Rachel-three-years-ago stalker, which would work for me but not anybody else, and it'd be too hard to listen to without her._

Finn thought about just how battered he was going to feel after a night (and many rehearsals before it) of love songs without Rachel there, and cringed. At least he was less likely to have to deal with someone like that redhead who came onto him at the last show, Irene expected mostly couples since their crowd was older and would mostly be on dates for Valentine's Day. Scott had mentioned his girlfriend Rhonda was coming - they'd never met her - so everyone there would be coupled up except himself. _Stupid-ass liquor laws, it's not like she'd drink. _Finn sighed and went to the next song in line, "Never": (*)

_Hey baby, I'm talking to you, stop yourself and listen_

As Finn listened, it seemed like it would be good for Irene, let her really take over. Heavy keyboards, strong female vocal in her range, and something that would fit with their less poppy gigs as well, which usually didn't feature her nearly as much. And the break had a lot of bass, a little extra for Scott.

_We can't go on just running away_  
_If we stay any longer we will surely never get away_  
_Anything you want we can make it happen_  
_Stand up and turn around_  
_Never let them shoot us down_

Though as he relaxed and listened he heard Rachel's voice, as if she was singing it to him - as well she might, with those words. It might be a bit less couple-y than Irene had in mind, love getting more serious and aggressive, but it still fit the bill as a song for the Valentine's gig. Most of the women's songs were either too slow and plaintive or too in-your-face, the I-don't-need-you side that they really had to stay away from. "Never" was a bit of a throwdown song, but it was a come-on-be-serious-about-love throwdown that should suit the occasion.

_Walk those legs right over here, give me what I'm dying for_

Though dying was right. His physical relationship with Rachel seemed to be going backwards, they had big steps forward after Christmas and on New Year's Eve and then it seemed to stall in thin air.

Meanwhile his career was kind of the same, stalled. He'd hoped for more interest after his big hero moment at the gig, but nothing. Even the others seemed to have forgotten about it. And playing "Rejection is a Bitch" with Santana had gotten old, it was one thing to push through initial futility but going back to it after success just hurt, the burning kind of hurt (echoed by what the vodka felt like it was doing to the back of his throat; they should probably both lay off it). Santana was doing okay with her stuff, he was happy for her but it just made him feel worse, especially with the salsa band doing good business and giving the lie to the whole "nothing happens in January" bit. Feeling like the band could blow apart at any moment didn't help, without that he'd just be a diner busboy, nobody, going nowhere. Like Ron, who had eventually given up and headed back home.

_Never run away..._

But shit, it was hard to hang in there. Even knowing that he had to, that if he walked away one more time Rachel could never trust him again, that they'd both be left with gaping wounds showing where their tether had once been, never healing. Sometimes he worried that it was already too late, but if there was a chance he had to take it.

He just needed something, some success with his career or with her, _something_ to keep him going.

* * *

_* "Never", as performed by Heart, written by Ann Wilson, Nancy Wilson, Greg Bloch, and Holly Knight._

* * *

_Please review! I'd like to know what you think.  
_


	20. Friction

Monday after class James asked Rachel to come with him back across campus, so he could show her the results of the scan.

"Sorry there's not much space," he apologized, as he showed her into the small basement office he appeared to share with two others, neither of whom were there. "Carmichael arranged for me to have a desk I can use here while I'm at NYADA, but that's basically it." He pulled over one of the other chairs for her, and they sat together at his desk, James opening his laptop up and starting some of the software. "I do everything on here so I can carry it around with me." They waited for a minute or so. "The software's a little slow to start," he added.

"That's a nice picture," Rachel commented, gesturing to the background image of a brown-haired woman of about twenty-five, sitting with her back to a tree and a rough-coated black-and-tan terrier curled into her side.

James smiled. "Thanks. That's Sarah and Nia. Uh, my partner Sarah and our dog Nia, she's a border terrier. I took that one in Central Park a couple of years ago, but I never get tired of looking at my girls."

"I know what you mean," Rachel replied. She pulled out her phone and showed him her lock screen, which as usual displayed a picture of Finn, this one of him behind his drum kit. "I change the picture every so often but of course it's always Finn."

James cast a quick glance at the picture, nodding, then his attention was drawn back to the screen as the program he'd been waiting for finally finished loading. "About time," he muttered under his breath, then pressed a few keys to bring up Rachel's file.

"Okay, so it's not one hundred percent, nothing is, but the program's very reliable at finding the significant factors for voice resonance." A few images displayed, though it was nothing Rachel could make sense of. James continued. "So as I thought, your throat is unusually open. Very relaxed, no wonder your quality is consistently so high." Rachel beamed to hear this, and waited as he looked at the images further. "Do you have a gag reflex?" he asked.

"Um, excuse me?" That wasn't a question she expected.

James looked sheepish. "I guess that sounds strange, inappropriate, but it's not. With how relaxed your throat and palate are when you're singing - I wondered. Do you know if you do?"

"Oh. No. I mean yes, I know, and no I don't have one."

"Must make you popular," he commented absently, then he stiffened. "Okay, _that _was inappropriate, I am so sorry."

"That's okay."

"It certainly makes your voice consistent, or it's a side effect of whatever makes your voice so consistent," he went on, getting back onto topic. "Your palate doesn't spasm or react the way others often do."

Rachel hadn't thought of it that way, but she supposed he was right, the two were connected. "That's good, right?"

"That's excellent, for your voice production; aside from the sound quality, it might also mean a longer and better career, since you won't strain the way others do, especially for more dramatic singing. It's also good for other purposes."

_Other purposes? Is he talking about the other thing again?_ She remembered the leering "congratulations" that she'd heard Noah give Finn when her lack of gag reflex had come up amongst the Glee Club, and how embarrassed both she and Finn had been. Finding out that it was good for her voice and career was excellent news, but if he was hinting at its "other use" again she didn't want to continue this conversation. She edged away a little, suddenly aware that the two of them were alone in a small room in the basement. "Ah, what other purposes?"

James gave a slight wince; he'd apparently noticed her movement. "Research," he stated. "Just research, I swear." He moved away himself, turning to face her. "My thesis advisors suggested I add a test voice to my acoustics research, where I'm doing acoustic analysis of various local theaters. The bulk of the work uses artificially generated test frequencies, but some of the funding comes from the theater association, so I need to make the results clearly useful for the community, which in this case means samples with a live singer." He looked at her seriously, seeming professional. "I'd like that singer to be you."

Rachel blinked, dumbfounded. "Me?_"_

"Yes. Consistency is key, that's why my work for the theaters relies on artificial sounds, so if I'm adding a real voice I need one like yours." He leaned forward and tapped a few keys on the computer. "Look at this, it's an overlay of your two audio samples: red is from Monday, green is from Friday, so yellow is both."

Rachel watched the animation move, and it was all yellow, at least almost all, with just the occasional edge of red or green. "They're almost completely the same," she said in wonder. "That - that's me? Really?" She knew she always did her best to be consistent and thought she usually was, but she'd never seen the results before. Her prior concern about James's motives vanished as her interest in what he was doing grew.

"Yes, that's you. Most people have more differences, and a lot of that is throat reaction. You should see some of mine, I get color spikes from the fluctuations. If the facility-to-facility comparisons are going to make any sense at all, I need the fewest differences from the singer, and from this it looks like you can do that even without knowing it."

_Wow,_ Rachel thought, still mesmerized by the animation, elated to get this vote of confidence in just how special her voice was, even though there was a little bit of a letdown in knowing that it could be broken down that way. And to be involved in something like what James was describing, supported by the theater association... special _and_ important. "What would you need me to do?" she asked.

"Stand on a stage and sing," James said. He broke into a grin. "Think you can do that?"

Rachel beamed. "I think I can manage to."

* * *

Monday afternoon the band met again at Daryl and Irene's, everyone holding little slips of paper with song titles written on them and exchanging uncertain looks with the person across the room.

Finn took one last look at the three songs he'd picked out - "Never", "Message of Love", and Madonna's "Cherish" - then over at Irene, and stepped forward to exchange slips with her. He sat back down and looked at what she had for him, while Daryl and Scott did their own exchange.

Finn grinned when he saw the first song in the list, written out in Irene's flowery handwriting. Sure, one part of this was to challenge each other with songs you might not pick yourself, but there was also something great about her picking out "Can't Fight This Feeling", the song that had caused Mr. Schue to blackmail him into Glee Club, without her having a clue about its significance to him. The second, 38 Special's "Caught Up in You", was more classic rock, just his speed, but he didn't recognize the third, "Spellbound".

He looked over at Irene, puzzled, and saw her grin. She seemed happy with what he was suggesting for her. "Spellbound?" he asked, and saw her shrug.

"It's a bit harder-edged than a lot of the stuff you've done, but then again so is some of this for me," she replied, waving the list he'd given her. "They'll fit. And I couldn't resist giving you a song sung by a drummer, at least you know going in that it's built to play and sing, and it should be in the sweet spot of your vocal range." Faced with all that consideration, Finn hadn't the guts to tell her that he didn't even know the song. He'd look it up as soon as he got home.

Any further contemplation of his list stopped when Scott stopped looking at his to stare at Daryl until the guitarist looked up.

"What?" Daryl stared back. "You have a problem with one of those? I worked hard on this."

"'Just What I Needed'?" Scott asked rhetorically, his voice hard. "The bass is okay I guess, but _really_?"

Daryl smirked, apparently expecting this reaction. "The bassist sings it, Scott. You can too." Not that they were bound by who sang and played what in the original, but it helped fit things together.

"No," Scott replied reflexively. "Just, _no_."

"Yes," Daryl insisted. "You want a higher profile? Use your voice for something other than arguing with me."

"I don't sing lead."

"We're shaking things up, right? And your vocals are fine, good enough for this, it's not like Orr was a big melodic singer or anything."

Scott was still frowning, a trace of panic in his face. Finn wasn't sure what to make of this, was Daryl trying to show up the experiment, or make a point to Scott, or was this legit? Irene was smiling, so there was that, though she probably knew all about it already. Maybe Scott just needed some support.

"Hey," Finn put in. "He's right that you can do it. It's The Cars, it'll be a great number for us."

Scott stared at the list in his hand again, swallowing. "I'll give it a shot," he said finally. "But it's on you if I crash and burn."

"We can always sub in one of us if it doesn't work out for you for the show," Daryl offered, and Finn nodded. Orr and Ocasek were both from Ohio, so he'd grown up hearing them a lot and could jump in if he had to. Unlike his complete lack of familiarity with whatever band had done that song Irene wanted him to do.

Scott shook his head, but started to smile. "I'll probably regret this," he said. "But I guess if you went looking for songs sung by a bass player, I'm lucky you didn't pick 'Tom Sawyer'."

"Not romantic enough," Daryl replied with a straight face. "Don't think I didn't consider it."

Scott snorted at this, and the tension was well and truly broken.

"Now let's listen to them," Irene said, getting up and taking the list Daryl held; she would already have the ones she and Daryl had put together, Finn supposed. "We can listen to the other picks afterwards."

Finn leaned back as Irene went to the computer in the corner, bringing up the music service they subscribed to. The first ones played - it started with her list for Finn - and they all listened.

"Can't Fight This Feeling" certainly brought back memories for Finn. Sure he'd listened to it and sung it since, but knowing now what had really caused him to be recruited for Glee, he closed his eyes and imagined his younger self after football practice, standing in the shower stall at McKinley and rocking out. Maybe he had come a lot farther than he thought, singing and drumming as a member of a paid band. And now, too, that song was really about someone, as was the one after, "Caught Up In You".

He tensed as the latter finished, wondering what this mystery song "Spellbound" was. And - great guitar riff intro, Daryl would love that, and then the drums kicked in hard. He listened carefully, and yes he could kind of tell it was the drummer singing, or at least that drumming wouldn't interfere with the vocals. (*)

_Fire in her eyes made my blood run cold_  
_She took me by surprise and I'm_  
_Spellbound, dreaming of you all the time_  
_Spellbound, feels like I'm falling over the line_  
_Spellbound, will my head be clear by the morning light_

The dude in the song was obsessed, but it worked. Not like he wasn't, after all, only he had more success. Finn listened on. Except - "Okay if I change the words a bit?" he asked.

"What, you want to describe your actual girl?" Daryl teased.

"Yeah," he admitted, reddening. The line had said "golden hair"; not only would he be happier singing words about Rachel, he really didn't want to hit something that was a known insecurity of hers, whether she'd hear it or not. He could come up with something to substitute. As the song went on he found other lyrics suiting him better:

_I've gotta shape up before it's too late_  
_I think I'm losin' my mind and I'm_  
_Spellbound, dreaming of you all the time_

If anything it was almost too appropriate, but Finn knew he'd have a blast playing it. He'd just better stick to stuff he knew for a lot of the rest since this one was totally new to him. Especially since he didn't want to admit that.

They kept on going, moving to Scott's list next. Scott did seem to be seriously considering "Just What I Needed", so Finn pulled out his phone and started making notes. He thought it would make a good song after "Dance Hall Days" if they used that as a second set opener; they could have a sort of prolonged band intro bit, play their title song and then have spotlights for each member, starting with Scott. It would work as long as Daryl had something that could help them climb back down from "Spellbound", but Daryl had the most options anyway.

When they got to hers, Irene started rocking out to "Never" right away, so it looked like a plan. "What'cha doing?" she asked Finn, noticing his note-taking. Which might look like texting, he supposed, so he flashed his screen out to show the notes.

"Just thinking about what might work together," he answered. "Maybe we could have a sequence of these spotlight numbers, a lot of them go together pretty well musically."

"Cool," Daryl put in, not seeming to mind at all, so Finn kept going with it. Once they'd gone through Daryl's three they took a break for some drinks, then got back into it with the rest of the suggestions.

A lot of them, fortunately, were ones they'd played at least once before, and some numbers had made more than one list. Irene laughed as she compared them.

"This one's on almost all of them, so we have to play it," she said. "It's perfect, the classic eighties upbeat song about love." (**)

_The power of love is a curious thing_  
_make a one man weep, make another man sing..._

"So who skipped it?" Scott asked.

"Actually I did," Irene replied, looking sheepish. "We didn't coordinate much, honest, but I was sure Daryl would have it so I went for something else." They all listened, nodding, finding their own parts in it. This one was definite, and Finn started wondering what could go with it.

He stretched out on the couch as they all listened to song after song: Bowie, Van Halen, Modern English, Peter Gabriel, INXS, the songs went on. But Finn cringed as he heard the opening riff for "White Wedding"; it churned up too much guilt, both of his panicked proposal to Rachel and of how he'd essentially dumped her on their wedding day (without meaning it like that). _Hey stupid drummer, what have you done,_ he thought, editing the lyrics in his brain as they played.

"Think it's a good one?" Daryl asked, seeing him move and probably mistaking Finn's reaction. And it was a suitable number, if he tried to be objective.

"Might be a good opener," Finn answered. Well-known, popular, high-energy... _and at least that'll get it over with. _He couldn't avoid stuff like this, no matter how much he would like to.

Next up were The Police, with "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic", though Finn had to wonder who had put it down, since none of them really had the right type of voice for it. He listened to Sting's light voice, and mentally groaned again: (***)

_and ask her if she'll marry me, in some old-fashioned way..._

After that, Finn tried to tune out the lyrics entirely.

* * *

Thursday Finn had an early shift at the diner, a half-shift to help break in Ron's replacement. When his break came and he checked his phone, he found a missed call and a message: someone was looking for a drummer.

Excited, he called the Mario guy back to get the details, though his excitement vanished quickly as he got the information. Mario had some band that did background music at a latin dinner show, their drummer had hurt his elbow, so they needed a fill-in for three weeks. They'd gotten his name from Jose, the drummer he'd filled in for with Santana's salsa band; Jose could cover that weekend as an emergency, but he couldn't do the following two weeks. Three nights a week, Thursday-Friday-Saturday, early evening only, all they needed was someone who could keep the beat.

Basic backing drums for a latin show - well, it might be better than nothing, even if it sounded like some lame dinner show, maybe even wasting time he needed to practice for Valentine's Day. But Finn liked that it meant his previous fill-in work for Santana's salsa band had actually borne fruit, his progress was excruciatingly slow but maybe he was actually getting somewhere. And he couldn't turn a referral down, who knows when he'd get another, so Finn said yes and arranged to meet the dude the next Tuesday to get the music straight.

Not going so well was the setlist for the band. Okay there was some progress since the new stuff got nailed down immediately, but once they had switched to picking stuff from the repertoire they started getting into disputes about what people _wanted_ to play versus what _worked_. Finn was determined that they had to stop acting like this was a hobby. Irene also wanted to add selections from the request list, which was all very well and fine but it was an old list intended for their regular gigs, they couldn't count on the same people coming, and there was already a lot of new material to polish and in some cases learn from scratch. "Spellbound" was a bit of a monster, though Finn definitely liked the challenge and the song. He'd tried to get the others to realize that the show was too long for them to handle being on edge for too much of it, but so far they all seemed like they were expecting things to fall together on the night, and the last time they'd tried that Daryl had almost passed out.

Finn knew he was starting to push a lot, especially since he was the new guy, but he desperately needed this show to be a big success, and he needed them to want that too.

Once Finn's shift at the diner was done, he negotiated with John so he'd have time off for the other gig. Finn didn't feel like thinking about the band that afternoon, so he decided to head into Manhattan and see Rachel, hoping to take her to dinner. Their date on Saturday hadn't ended that well, he missed her, and all the love songs the band had been listening to were messing with his brain. He headed to NYADA, bought coffee at the usual place, and then waited for her outside the building where (according to the schedule she'd given him) she was finishing up with her acting class.

Shortly before four Rachel came down the steps, her face lighting up to see him. "Finn, what a lovely surprise," she said, though her face fell momentarily at seeing the coffee he held for her. "But I'm not drinking coffee this afternoon, I can't, the caffeine could affect my voice."

Finn blinked. Rachel turning down coffee was a new one on him, and he felt pretty lame to be standing there holding it for her. "You're singing later?" He had thought she'd be done for the day.

"Just a bit, doing a test sample in a theater," she explained, or at least it seemed like it was supposed to be an explanation. She painted a smile on again and took the cup from him. "These heat up very well, I'll drink it afterwards. Thank you."

_Pity acceptance of coffee, check,_ Finn thought. _It's either do that or dump it, I guess. _"Uh, 'test sample'? What's that about?"

"My Voice TA has me helping out with his research project, he's taking vocal samples in different theaters so he can analyze the acoustics. James needs consistency, that's why I can't risk getting a caffeine effect since I'm meeting him in an hour. The timing's awkward, but we have to use the theater when nobody else is there."

_So much for "let's go to dinner,"_ Finn thought, annoyed and growing concerned about what she was telling him. _And a 'research project'? Alone with this James guy? That doesn't sound like NYADA stuff, what's really going on? And why am I only hearing about it now?_

They started slowly walking across the NYADA campus together, Finn still confused by whatever Rachel was doing. He knew he didn't know much about TAs, beyond that they were these things that college courses had, older students or something that were supposed to help out the professor. And that any college-set TV show that he'd ever heard of always had the TA character getting involved with one of the students or the professor, sooner or later. Rachel hanging out with her TA, outside of class - he didn't like the sound of that at all. She seemed really happy with what she was doing, though.

"So... you're singing? That's research?" Finn asked finally, unable to suppress his skepticism.

"Yes," Rachel replied, her voice with that little sing-song lecturing quality it sometimes had. "To help him test the acoustics. It's so flattering, really," she went on, sliding into excitement.

_Flattering, I'll bet,_ he thought darkly, still annoyed by the downfall of his plan.

"He says my voice is especially good for it, there's something about how open and relaxed my throat is, like how I don't have a gag reflex -" Rachel cut off her explanation as Finn stiffened and stopped dead.

"_What?_" Finn raised his voice, almost yelling in his shock at what she was telling him.

"What - what's wrong?" She had changed from excited chattering to worry.

"Are you freaking kidding me? You're going alone into empty theaters with this dude who likes that you _don't have a gag reflex_, and you wonder what's wrong?" Even in New York, this attracted obvious attention. Finn drew Rachel aside and tried to keep his voice down. "I don't like you doing this with this guy."

"It's not like that at all," Rachel protested, his objections apparently taking her by surprise. "You know I love you, don't you trust me?"

Finn bit back his impulse to bring up Puck - that had been a specific situation, and they'd both learned from their mistakes and forgiven each other for what they'd done back then. "I don't trust _him_," he gritted out. "How can I, I've never met him, and I don't know anything about this 'research project' -"

At this Rachel interrupted, scoffing at his use of air quotes. "It's legitimate research, one of his advisors is my voice professor. And it's such an honor, people who look at these facilities are going to compare them by listening to me sing." She frowned, offended. "Or is it that you can't believe _that_?"

"Of course I can believe that - Rach, come on. You know what I've always thought of your voice, even outside of what it does to me." Finn frowned in turn. "Just - I'd be happier, I guess, if I could be there. To make sure you're not being exploited or something."

"We can hardly match our schedules enough to go on a date once a week, and James has to use the theaters when nobody else is. They need to be _empty_, just the two of us and his recording equipment." She glared at Finn. "_Audio_ recording equipment."

"Well maybe one reason our schedules match so badly these days is that _you're_ so busy with this _project_."

"This is important. It's important research and it's important for _me_. Or can I only further my career when it's something you're making me do?"

Finn's jaw set, flinching at the reminder of how he'd put her on the train. "I completely regret that, you know I do."

Rachel lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, yes I know that. But you still can't keep changing things on me." She looked back up at him, determined. "You say we're building our own lives and I should be a star - well this is part of that. Just think, everyone who's picking a theater for a new production could be listening to my voice for this. Seeing my name."

"So you care about the exposure."

"Shouldn't I? I'm being handed a chance to have all these people know about me and hear me, I should walk away from that because of _why_, exactly? Because my boyfriend who shouldn't be weird about it somehow _is_?"

_Can't she just listen?_ "Well if this is more important to you -"

"Don't do that, Finn. Don't take it like that. Of course you're more important. But I shouldn't have to choose, are you going to pull that out every time, I love you so I have to do what you want, so you don't have to understand things or even try to be consistent?" She looked up at him, her eyes starting to water. "It's just for a few weeks, we've already done two of them and he hasn't tried _anything_, I suppose if you can hang around long enough you could meet him, but will you just -" she bit her lip, a few tears falling.

"Will I just what? Understand something you don't tell me about?"

"That's not fair," Rachel responded, starting to cry in earnest. "There's a lot in your life you don't tell me about either, we don't talk enough."

"Well here I am trying to fix that and look what happens." Finn turned away from her. "You do what you want. It's clear to me you will anyway," he threw back as he strode off.

He made it as far as the corner before it registered what he was doing, the same thing he'd done when Sebastian had been threatening him last year, that he'd done when they'd argued about L.A., he'd taken the last word and walked away from her. Those times he'd asked too much of her, demanded that she give things up for him and made her think they weren't speaking, even made it so they weren't; he had regretted them later but now he was doing it again.

But he was so pissed off, as he'd been then. He walked away from things so he wouldn't do something worse, at least that's what he thought. But - _Real mature, Hudson,_ he told himself, stopping. _Make her cry and then walk away so you don't have to see it. Again._

Finn turned and walked back, seeing Rachel slumped against the wall, crying. He went up to her and put his arm around her, pulling her into him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not walking away," he said, his voice choked. "I just - I don't know what I am right now. I need some space so I don't explode. And I trust you, of course I do, okay?" He felt her nod against his chest, so he pressed a kiss roughly to her hair and released her. "You say it's good for you and I believe you, at least I'm trying to. I'll call you tonight. I love you." He left again, but at least this time he'd left a promise behind him.

* * *

Finn walked for a while, trying to clear his head, though mostly trying to loosen the knot inside him, the one that said maybe this was never going to work, or at least that he'd thrown away any chance of it working when he'd broken Rachel's heart at the train station and also pushed her into building a life without him. Push - pull - push - pull... maybe they were both hurting each other too much, trying to make this work.

But wouldn't it hurt her even more for him to give up? Again? Like she said about her voice, they needed consistency.

In late evening, knowing he couldn't put it off any more, he called her. "Hey," he said quietly, once she'd picked up.

"Thanks for calling," she answered, and he could her the tightness in her voice.

"We need to talk," he stated, and heard her sigh sadly. "No, not a 'we need to talk' bomb, just - we need to talk _more_. I don't like not knowing what's going on with you."

"Do you think _I_ like not knowing what's going on with _you_?" she answered, pained, and yeah, he didn't have much of a leg to stand on, there was a lot he wasn't comfortable with laying open to her. The friction in the band and the wrangling over the setlist, how Ron had given up and left town, that he now had lined up what sounded likely to be the lamest drumming gig ever - he wanted to impress her, but he didn't have anything to impress her with, especially not compared to what she was probably doing, and everyone she had around her. "So yes," she continued, "we need to talk more."

And since he'd started that, he supposed he should go first, even without knowing what to say. "The band's okay, I guess," he said. "Hard to know really. We're working really hard on the setlist for the big show. We've had a lot of friction though, we're trying a different way and I think it's working right now but I don't know. I don't know if it's going to pan out, or even if it's going to hold together for long enough to have a chance to pan out."

"I believe in you," Rachel said, and with that sound in her voice he could almost see her big trusting eyes locking on his.

"Yeah, well..." _all the faith in the world won't help here,_ he thought. _Just makes me feel worse about failing._ "Thanks." He swallowed. "I got a bit more fill-in work, so I guess that's something," he offered lamely. "Some latin band, Santana's band's drummer knows them and they needed someone to cover for a few shows."

"That's great, Finn." Her voice warmed. "Would it be anything I could go to?"

"Uh..." _Yes, but please don't,_ his brain supplied, but he stopped himself from saying it. She'd still cheer him on, he knew, but it'd just make him feel like even more of a disappointment, like when she'd tried to help him "find his dream" during career counselling last spring. And now he was going to get to hear about this oh-so-great project, yes he wanted to know about the guy getting her to do it, that was still suspicious, but hearing about how great things were going for her just made the gulf he saw between them widen further. "Not really," he said finally. "I guess you could, but it's some sort of dinner show on the far side of Brooklyn. I don't know much about it yet but it's probably pretty dull."

"Nothing where I get to watch you is ever dull," she replied pertly.

"These dinner things aren't something to go to alone." Still, he could tell she was disappointed and trying to make an effort, he shouldn't put her off. "I'll let you know when I know more about it," he offered.

"Okay." They fell silent for a few moments, both aware of how fragile things were between them right now.

"So..." Finn prompted.

"So," Rachel said. "James's project." She paused. "It's really just what I told you this afternoon, I sing test samples from the stage of different theaters, he records them from various different places in the audience and does some sort of analysis to figure out something about the acoustics."

"What's he trying to figure out?"

"I don't know. He's finishing his Master's at NYU, it's some sort of survey of theater acoustics. He's done tests with artificial sounds but they want a real voice too, and when he saw my sample for class he decided he wanted it to be mine."

"He could tell you don't have a, uh..." he didn't want to bring it up, not really.

"He wondered. My throat stays very relaxed he says, that's just part of it. It's good for the consistency his project needs, it's so important that the differences be due to the theater as much as possible."

"It just... it seems really strange. And you say you don't even understand it yourself, what he's doing it for."

"It's his project, he's been working on it for over a year already. I only started doing it a few days ago."

Finn huffed in frustration. It sounded so reasonable, but also still weird. "Can I meet him?" he asked. "Not to check up on you, just - I'd like to."

"I can't just set up an appointment for you, I don't want us to look like naive fools," Rachel replied, her voice edged. She sighed.

"I can't just, I don't know, meet you after your class or something? Isn't he your TA too?" Though he guessed even if he was checking up on things she wouldn't want it to look like he was. She hated that he was, he could tell.

"Ooh, I know," she said, and he was relieved to hear her voice warming. "There's a show we're all going to next weekend - not the one coming up, the one after - you could come to that."

"Next weekend?" He had that fill-in gig.

"Yes, the Saturday, actually that would be great. I was already hoping you might be able to come, there's a show in one of the old theaters and James is organizing the technique class to go. He said we can bring a few others, if we let him know to get tickets. Of course he'll let_ me_ bring someone, since I'm working with him, and I'd like us to do more socially."

The solo dates weren't enough, that sounded like. But he hated competing for her attention, especially when it seemed like he would lose, she knew so may great people now. "Um... what time?" Maybe he could make it after the gig. He'd better figure it out now.

"It's at ten." Pause. "Please come?" she asked in a small voice, and he couldn't say no to that. The new gig was a dinner thing and finished at seven-thirty on the Saturday, he could fit them both in.

"Yeah, okay," he said. "I'll be there."

"Thank you." her voice brightened. "So how about this weekend, do you have any time?"

"Uh... not really." He groaned. "I had to trade shifts around to make time for the new gig. Sorry. Monday?"

"Could you come here for dinner Monday? Kurt and I have started a Monday night Chinese takeout thing, I know he'd love you to come."

Finn grumbled a bit to himself, he'd rather have her alone, but he hadn't seen much of Kurt either so he agreed. They hung up a few minutes later after goodnights and I-love-yous, things seeming better than they had been so soon before.

* * *

The weekend for Finn was busy, when he wasn't at the diner he was at home pounding his way through new songs.

Monday should at least be better, or at least he hoped so, they had a band rehearsal in the afternoon and then he was headed to Rachel and Kurt's for dinner.

Rehearsal started well. They played through some of the numbers, and even listened to Scott sing. He sounded fine. Then Daryl suggested Finn give "Spellbound" a try, and Finn muttered some stuff about it not being ready. It was hard to put them off when Scott had just stepped up, and it was obvious the others knew it, but he really didn't want to admit he hadn't heard the song until they'd played it for him. He countered with offering to do the 38 Special song, and further suggested that they work on the likely set-openers and the first set closer, since they'd figured those out. He hoped he'd made the importance of nailing those ones sound big enough that they didn't notice he was avoiding the other song. He liked it and he'd nail it, he just needed more time, he promised himself.

He arrived for dinner to find only Kurt, telling him that Rachel was running late, something had come up at school. _Or something else?_ he wondered, doubly annoyed, that she wasn't there and also that this was probably that damned project again. But he did his best to relax and catch up with Kurt, pretending to pay attention to the talk of fashion design. He knew he wasn't fooling Kurt much.

Kurt's phone rang, and it was Rachel, finally almost home and asking for takeout requests. Twenty-five minutes later she arrived.

Rachel handed the bags of takeout boxes to Kurt. "Please excuse us for a moment," she told Kurt, then drew Finn aside to give him a passionate kiss that weakened his knees but solidified a different part. "Trust me, I wish I'd been here earlier," she whispered in his ear once their lips parted. "Missing you is very distracting."

And oh, that was good, to know it and to feel it and...

But Rachel moved away, and they had the takeout to eat, and anyway even if Kurt hadn't been there they weren't at a stage where he could take her into her room and keep going. Just dating Rachel was frustrating, he wanted her so damned much.

They chatted over dinner, though mostly that was Rachel and Kurt. Finn decided he couldn't stay long, he was tired and far too frustrated about how things were at the moment, but he did his best to talk as they ate.

"Do you really have to go to this thing on Saturday?" he asked Rachel once they were done. Kurt had gone into the kitchen to store the leftovers, leaving them theoretically alone. Finn wondered if maybe they could do something else together after his gig, if she didn't have to go to that show instead. Saturdays were easiest for him to stay out late since the diner wasn't busy Sunday mornings.

Rachel's face was tight. "Yes, I do," she answered. "It's for class, and since I'm involved with James's project he needs me to go, to support the class outing and to help me understand what I'm doing."

_But I need you,_ Finn thought, saying nothing. He knew he was being selfish, and it was just one night, but after how badly their other recent attempts to connect had gone, it seemed like just one more straw on the overloaded camel.

"What's this really about, Finn?" she asked, clearly concerned. Kurt had come back from the kitchen but seemed to be trying to ignore them.

"I don't know I just - I want you to myself sometime, that's all." It didn't seem like much to ask. Had they gone too fast, making out, sleeping curled up together, was she keeping all this public because she didn't trust being alone with him?

"Well I want that too. We'll just have to make some more time for it." She made it sound so easy, but he knew that determined way she talked, like she was hoping if she made it sound easy it would be easy when she knew it wasn't. She was trying to convince both of them that they could do this.

She could tell, he realized, tell that he was struggling, afraid of failing, and it scared her. Like that dream of hers that she probably didn't even remember, she was scared he was going to leave.

He needed her to not be scared. But how could she not be scared, when he was scared himself?

Later, once he'd kissed her goodnight, Finn found Kurt following him out into the hall.

"What are you doing?" his stepbrother asked, practically hissing at him.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, it's too obvious on you. You're pulling away and she can tell. It's like you don't even want to go to anything with her."

"I'm not the one who has this whole new world," Finn said defensively. "I don't fit into it, am I supposed to be happy about going along to meet all her great NYADA friends and this damned TA that she's suddenly so close to, so she can see how much I don't belong?"

"And you don't have things going on that she can't be part of, these gigs she can't go to?" Kurt sighed. "_You're_ her world, Finn. At least you would be if you let yourself be. She loves you and she wants to show you off, do you think she hasn't been talking about you to all of those people?"

"I don't know."

"And I thought things were so much better between you, what happened?"

Finn shrugged. "January happened, I guess," he said, and sighed. "I've just been really frustrated, with work, the band, with how things are with her. I love her so much, and I want her so badly, it makes every little thing so much bigger."

"Well take care," Kurt said, looking very concerned. "Make sure you don't push her away again."

"I'll try."

* * *

Tuesday Finn headed out to the hall on the outskirts of Brooklyn to talk to Mario.

The music seemed fine, boring, just keep a basic rhythm and do a few accents backing the main act, and he played along with a few of the other musicians without difficulty. Mario also had some of the music burned on CD for him to listen to. He only had a couple of days, but it was a lot easier than what he'd done for the salsa band, so his biggest problem should be staying awake.

What he didn't expect, though, was to be asked to follow Mario into the back, and then handed a strange looking shirt.

"This is the costume you'll need," Mario said. "Wear plain black pants with it."

"What is this?" Finn said, disbelieving, looking at the shirt in his hands. At least he guessed it was a shirt, it was mostly black but the sleeves draped, puffed out at the wrists just like the whole thing did at the waist, and the very deep V neckline was surrounded by _ruffles_. Edged in _bright pink_. "You can't seriously expect me to wear _this_."

Mario shrugged. "There are others, but that's the only one that's going to be big enough. Brian wears the turquoise one, but he's a lot smaller than you and he's always made a point about how drummers need space in the shoulders. That one should do. I'm sorry there's just the one, it'll get washed between nights. It's been washed since Jose wore it last weekend."

_He thinks I'm worried about it being **clean**?_ Finn was dumbfounded. _It'd be better dirty._ His mind scrambled to find a way out. "Can't I find something else that might, uh, fit in without sticking out so much? I thought we were playing in the background." He'd expected a basic black shirt would work for any of that stuff.

"They all match, except for the piping."

"Oh, come on, I can't play in _this_," Finn said, his temper starting to fray.

"Why not?" Mario challenged him. "It's just your size, you'll be fine. It's a performance, you have to fit the setting." The man paused, looking at him, both staring at each other as if to see who would look away first. "You can't say you don't dress up for your other gigs."

"Not in anything like this," Finn shot back, waving the shirt in his hand violently.

"Come on, you can't bail on us now." Mario frowned. "Okay, you _can_, I suppose you can do whatever you want. But it's just a fill-in for a couple of weeks, six shows total, your playing's working out fine, and we thought you were going to help us out here."

Finn stared grimly at the shirt in his hand, not knowing what to say to that, not trusting himself to say anything. What he wanted to say was "this is a joke", because it was true. This was what his efforts and connections had gotten him, this is all he was good for, to dress up like an idiot for a joke gig. _January_, he tried to remind himself. _January is dead, Scott says this always happens. He doesn't have anything right now at all._ But this, it was humiliating to be asked to do this, and even worse to find out that he had to.

Actually he didn't really want to say anything at all, he wanted to give into his temper and break something, or tear up that stupid shirt. Barring that, walk away. But he shouldn't do either. He couldn't, he'd got the gig on a referral, word would get around if he bailed. Even though these people damn well deserved to have him bail, they hadn't mentioned costumes at all and he was sure that was so he'd be more likely to agree, and even now the dude was bluffing his way through it, deliberately acting like it shouldn't be a problem.

_Fuck._

Finn realized he was painted into a corner. At least nobody he knew would go to any of these shows, and there was definitely no way he was going to help Rachel come and see him like that.

He marshaled his remaining self-control enough to unclench his fist, shake the shirt out, and give Mario a very tight smile along with a nod. "All right," he managed to get out. "Since you really need someone, I wouldn't want to leave you hanging." He managed to unclench his jaw a little more. "This was just really _unexpected_."

"Great," Mario said. "We'll see you on Thursday then." Finn nodded. "Come at five, they might need more time to do your makeup since you're so pale."

_Makeup? Oh... fuck._

_Worst gig **ever**._

* * *

Wednesday the band met at Finn's, playing through some of the songs and sequences they had in the setlist so far. They were close to being done. Finn had put a lot of time into trying songs out, seeing what went together, structuring harder and slower sections and getting them to fit, and balancing out who was busy when. He thought it sounded good, the others mostly just accepting what he was doing, but maybe that was less because it was good than because they didn't especially care.

Finn lounged in a chair as they tried to finish the job, going through slow numbers to fill the last spots. Daryl seemed to be reverting to his old way, going down the list of solo ballads and love duets with a yes/no; Finn tried to comment a little on considering which slot a song was good for, even the slow numbers weren't interchangeable, they felt different and needed to go in the right place. He'd set up what he thought was a good spot for "Heaven", remembering Scott had said it would come up, but he wasn't sure about a couple of the others. Maybe he could shift things around later, if they didn't care. Or maybe the whole thing didn't matter at all, it's not like their previous setlists seemed to have shape or even all that much cohesion.

Daryl wanted a big duet, somewhere, and Finn figured "somewhere" should be the encore (assuming that they weren't humoring him about the encore - serious bands that played more than one set always had an encore, yes they were just playing in a bar but they should take it seriously and then maybe others would too). He cringed at Daryl's pick of "I've Had the Time of My Life", remembering that horrible Sectionals and all that came with it - at least Rachel wouldn't be there to hear it, and at least they hadn't sung it back then either. Besides, he'd just be backup to Daryl and Irene, probably for the last bit only, so what the hell. He let his mind wander as Daryl continued, talking about possible power ballads.

Except then one song title stuck out.

"Faithfully," Daryl stated, and Finn shuddered as something twisted inside him.

"**_No way._**" Finn's sudden hard response attracted the eyes of the other three.

"Um..." Scott raised his eyebrow. "Why not? It's a good song, right for the gig and our sound. You said something about a big slow finale for the second set, right?"

"Just, no, okay? Go to the next one." Finn looked at the table, avoiding his bandmates' eyes. It was too important to him, _their_ song, he didn't want to even play part of it without Rachel or have to sit there and have people watching him while doing it. He also didn't want to explain that and have them pick over his feelings or tell him he was making too big a deal about it.

"What?" Daryl's voice was hard. "Just sit and drum, it's not like you have to do anything big for it."

"Or why?" Irene asked, but Finn ignored her.

"Just sit and drum, like some sort of machine, huh?" Finn glared at Daryl. It was all just too much for him, the little pressures and the big pressures, feeling like he was failing, at music, at being with Rachel, at everything. That all his efforts were for nothing. He stood, ignoring the looks of concern from the others, his blood pounding furiously in his skull. "I just don't want to do it, _okay?_ I'm gonna be spending all night Valentine's Day without my girl, playing and singing love songs to all these other people at a gig that won't even _let her through the door_, isn't that _enough?_ I'm doing all the others, I don't want to do that one without her, and _no I don't fucking want to tell you why!_" Finn stormed off into his room, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he heard it slam, he regretted it. He just hadn't been able to hold it all in any longer, all the frustration with how badly things were going for him right now. All his worrying if all he'd done by moving to New York was postpone the inevitable.

Finn slumped down onto his bed, taking deep breaths to get himself back under control, hoping he'd be able to patch things up quickly with the band. He could hear them talking quietly, about him, and though he hated to find out what they had to say he supposed it was better than not knowing, so he listened as he tried to calm down.

"Okay, now we know why he hasn't lost his temper with us before," Scott commented. "Good thing this is his place."

"Problem with bringing in a kid," Daryl grumbled.

"Oh, because the two of you fighting over songs before and endangering the whole band was so very mature," Irene stated.

"He did save our asses New Year's Eve," Scott put in. Finn felt a bit better being reminded of that, and hearing that it mattered to them. It had been hard to know if anything he was doing mattered.

"Hmph." Daryl again. "But to just refuse to play something?"

"You veto," Scott offered.

"No I don't, I just want some songs over others," Daryl replied. Finn didn't know if they knew he could hear them, but it didn't matter. "There's not enough time in the sets for the other stuff."

"Fine, then let's play 'Almost Paradise', it's a perfect choice for the gig," Scott insisted. Pause. "You veto and you know it."

Long pause.

"So..." That was Daryl. They were probably wondering what to do now.

"Ten minute break," Irene called out. "Tune, regroup, go over the lists again."

Finn wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. "Okay," he called back. "Help yourself to drinks." He took five minutes to get himself sufficiently calmed down to go back out there, and another seven to get the nerve up to do it. "Ten minutes" was rarely meant literally.

Finally Finn opened his door, took a few steps out, and looked at the others, who had at least followed his invitation to get themselves something to drink. The beer had been supplied by Daryl anyway. "So, guys," he said. "I'm sorry, I guess I just snapped. I shouldn't have lost my temper, sorry." _Not much else to say really._

"No 'Faithfully', huh?" Scott asked.

"I'd really rather we didn't. It's... well, it's special. Okay?" He still didn't want to have to explain.

"I think we can handle that," Daryl said. "Still leaves us short that slow finale we talked about though, before the duet encore."

"Uh... God, let's see." Finn leaned over Daryl's shoulder to look at the setlist. "Put in 'You're the Inspiration', it's a better finale number anyway than where it is and we can all come in at the end."

"Leaves a hole in the first set. We need something slow there."

"Power ballad," Finn muttered, looking at the songs before and after.

"Only if you do it," Daryl stated, the other two leaving them to it. "I'm on the previous songs so we need a fresh voice to pull that off."

"Hmph."

"You should do 'When I'm With You'. It's been on the request list for a year."

"Too high." Finn grimaced, thinking of the falsetto ending, and that this would be another new song for him. "Unless I can drop the ending down."

"Sure. Just fit in what the transitions need."

After what he'd pulled, Finn supposed he owed them this for their tolerance. It was still really high for him, but he'd done worse, and it might even fit with the previous song although he was pretty sure it wouldn't fit with the one after. Maybe he could do something with the ending or... _It's not like anyone else seems to notice or care. Just get it done._ "Okay, deal," he said.

Daryl scribbled the songs in and looked over the list again. "Then I think we have a setlist." He lifted his beer to the others. "Cheers."

* * *

Even with the setlist now done, Finn couldn't shake his black mood, a fact that was not lost on Santana when she came back from work that evening.

"You need a drink," she said, going over to where he sat in a chair.

"No I don't," he muttered.

"Gotten some bad 'no's recently? Come on, brush it off."

"No," he replied. He shook his head. "You know, sometimes the 'yes's suck worse, at least once I find out how weak they are. How _temporary_ they are." He stood, brushing past Santana, heading for the kitchen.

"Whoa." She followed him for a few steps, and he turned back to face her. "Come on, what's going on here?"

Finn frowned. He knew she was trying to help, but - it wasn't something he could really explain, how everything seemed like it was about to fall apart if he breathed on it. "I don't know, it just - it feels like it's going nowhere. The New Year's Eve show was great, I even got to be the hero, but then there's just nothing, and we're polishing setlists like it means anything other than just spinning our wheels." He didn't want to mention his tantrum about _Faithfully_, and he didn't know if she knew about the tension and spats with Rachel.

"You have that big show though."

"It doesn't make up for the regular gigs we're missing."

"Maybe it'll lead to more."

"Maybe." Finn huffed in frustration. "Maybe, maybe, _maybe_. Maybe it'll lead to more, or maybe it'll lead to _nothing_. Just like everything else has, I get a few steps in but they just lead to another fucking brick wall." He gestured violently as he ranted, finishing by slamming his fists on the counter.

Santana just looked at him narrowly, waiting.

"What?" he asked, frowning at her.

"You done?"

Finn growled in his throat, but threw himself down into a chair. "Yeah, I guess I'm done."

"Good, 'cause we can't afford to have anything broken around here," Santana said, frowning. "Look, stop telling yourself you're a loser who won't ever amount to anything." She painted on a mock smirk. "That's my job. And I really don't like people taking over my jobs."

Finn grimaced. "You haven't been doing that one recently."

"That's right, I haven't." She looked down at him intently. "Ever wonder why that is?"

"'Cause I really do suck so there's no point picking on me for it?" Finn remembered Santana's little lecture on compliments and insults.

"Wow, you actually paid attention. But no, that's not it."

"Because you've decided you pity me enough so you're not going to insult me any more?" Though "don't kick someone when they're down" had never been one of Santana's mottos, quite the opposite.

"Nope, Tubs, that's not it either."

Finn rolled his eyes at the crack about his weight. He was in good shape, but he'd probably always be a little bit soft unless he got massively obsessive about it. And he'd seen Rachel wrinkle her nose unappreciatively at a poster ad that featured a heavily built man with very highly defined muscles, so he figured he was okay as far as that went. "Then why?"

"Because I've stopped lying." She turned away and went to her room, closing the door behind her, leaving Finn alone with that comment and his thoughts.

* * *

_* "Spellbound", as performed by Triumph, written by Gil Moore, Mike Levine, and Rik Emmett._  
_** "The Power of Love", as performed by Huey Lewis and the News, written by Huey Lewis, Chris Hayes, and Johnny Colla._  
_*** "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic", as performed by The Police, written by Sting._

* * *

_Please review!_


	21. Half a League

_The chapter title comes from the poem "The Charge of the Light Brigade", written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson._

* * *

Thursday at ten minutes to five Finn arrived at the hall for the latin gig, steeling himself for what was to come. He'd agreed to do it, so... _Nobody knows me here_, he told himself. _If I look like an idiot, so what._

Not many others were there yet, just Mario and a couple of the dancers, the latter already in costume and working on their makeup. Mario dug out the shirt, handed it to him in silence and pointed him to the side of the makeup area, where a middle-aged Hispanic woman waited.

"You're Finn, right? I'm Juana," she said in heavily accented English, gesturing to him to sit down. "Don't mind Mario, he's like that with everyone. Especially with having to find a substitute."

"You'd think he'd appreciate it a little more then," Finn muttered, quickly changing his shirt and sitting down where she had indicated. He did his best to not look in the mirror to see the shirt and how it looked on him, though this was extremely difficult as Juana started showing him what he needed to do for makeup.

"Don't ask a leopard to change his spots," she said in reply. "He gets away with it mostly, except with gringos like you." She showed him what he'd need to use, which was very dark. "You'll need a lot of this so you don't stick out too much," she explained. "And you'll need a moustache like the others." She gestured to a pile of fake facial hair and a bottle of adhesive, and Finn blinked at how offhandedly she stated this. She cast an appraising glance over him. "Make sure you put some on your chest as well, no amount of makeup can cover _that_."

_What does she mean, **that**?_ "Uh, what?" Finn stammered.

"You look like a teenager. You're supposed to be _manly_, you need to make yourself look it." She shook her head. "At least please do your best." She looked at him until he started to reluctantly pick through the fake hair. "I have to go, I work in the kitchen," she said at last, and left Finn to finish getting himself ready alongside some of the other band members who had now arrived.

_Manly?_ Finn wondered. _In this shirt?_ And he looked plenty manly (_don't I?_), some guys just didn't get much chest hair ever. Rachel liked his chest the way it was - or at least she had, back when they were doing that sort of thing. The memory of it just made him more frustrated, though more sad than annoyed now. And jealous, wondering if there was some older guy like that TA with his sights on Rachel, and yeah he was just a teenager. He looked at the others next to him, their shirts leaving their chests half-bare, showing muscles and a lot of hair. _And I'm looking at them like this why?_ Finn frowned, shook his head, and started to apply the thick tan cream.

He did a pretty decent job, at least that's what he told himself once he'd done, and the fake moustache he put on didn't look all that different from the ones the other musicians had. Theirs were probably real.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, everyone else was dressed up too. But the shirt was awful, and the others - they had the short solid look going for them, but even then they still looked stupid. Finn knew he was worse, tall and awkward, he'd be better once he was playing and he could get his mind off it, but even among the "band" he would stick out.

_Nobody knows me here_, Finn repeated to himself, and decided to put even more of the fake facial hair on, some sideburns, maybe he could make himself look different enough that he wouldn't think he was himself any more. Or something like that, what actors sometimes told themselves when they were getting into a part. He'd feel better about the whole thing if he could hide himself.

Then he was ready, and he talked politely to some of the others while waiting the last few minutes before the signal to go on.

Once they were on, he found the playing to be okay, though as he'd thought all along it was really boring. At least while he played he could focus on the drumming itself, not anything else, and yes the shirt did have plenty of room in the shoulders for that. He didn't look much at what was going on in front of the band, some singing and dancing, nothing all that special. It was clear the other band musicians were mostly going through the motions too, as they backed up the soloists, so he followed suit.

* * *

The next day Finn heard from Rachel, who called between classes to give him the information about Saturday night.

"We're meeting at nine-fifteen, at NYADA," she said. "On the path outside the building where, ah, where you met me last week." Rachel was clearly trying to avoid referring to their fight.

"Uh, okay, I guess," Finn stumbled. That was going to cut it close, at least if he went home first. "I thought you said ten?"

"The show is at ten. But we're going as a group, James made the arrangements for the tickets, so we're meeting ahead of time and walking to the theater." She paused, waiting. When he didn't answer she went on. "You can still come, right?" she asked, sounding plaintive but hopeful.

He could go straight from the gig, he decided. Traffic onto Manhattan would be a bitch (Santana's term for a lot of things, he should avoid picking it up) and there was nowhere to park, but if he took the subway instead he'd be fine. "Uh, yeah," he answered. "Yeah, I'll be there. Look, I have to go. I love you and I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

The Saturday show was scheduled to start earlier than the others, something about the hall being used for something else later, so Finn made sure he got there in plenty of time. He took the subway and then the bus, getting to the hall at four-thirty, leaving an hour still before anything was due to start.

So he got ready, layering on the fake hair pretty thick this time. The skin underneath was starting to get a bit raw, unfortunately, so the adhesive stung a little, but he'd be okay. The tan cream, too, he put on more heavily, having found it getting patchy as he played the previous night. Luckily the drumming wasn't that active, but even so he had been coming close to sweating out of the makeup.

He talked a little to the other members of the band as they got ready; they were pretty cool guys, mostly recent immigrants who were kind of stuck for work, and all of them were much better musicians than most of what they were called on to do. _There's actually the makings of a good band here,_ he reasoned. _Pity they don't get to be one._ Though if these guys couldn't get better work, it didn't say much for his own ability to build more of a career.

He sat there with the others, and waited to go on. And waited.

Finally he heard: "Mike's running late."

Sitting backstage with the rest of the band, Finn looked over at the door, where Mario had just stuck his head in and said those words. "Uh, what?" he asked. Mike was one of the singers, he had a solo in the third number.

"Mike's running late. So, everyone, we're swapping the third and fifth numbers, and the rest of the singers need to turn up the backing vocals for the first four. He'll need time to change, so we'll wait until he gets here to start." Mario looked around at the group. "Okay?" Seeing nods, he turned away.

"Uh, hold on." Finn's delayed reaction kicked in and he went after Mario. "How late are we talking here?"

"Just ten more minutes. Family emergency, he says, though it had better not happen again." Mario looked up at Finn. "Is there a problem?"

_Other than how your crummy show is ruining my life and how you treat your employees like crap?_ Finn supressed his honest reaction, and settled for "No." He was sympathetic to whatever problem Mike was having to deal with, especially since it didn't seem like Mario was, but the timing couldn't have been worse. Belatedly he wished he'd turned the stupid gig down entirely, since he didn't suppose it would matter all that much what this asshole said about him. But now that he was here, he couldn't really bail on the others, and he needed the money. _At least the pay's good,_ he consoled himself, since he'd stuck to his guns on getting the standard rate._ Times six should mean I can afford to take Rachel somewhere nice for Valentine's Day. Right after it, anyway. If she's still speaking to me after tonight._ In question now was whether he'd make it over to NYADA in time to meet her.

Twenty minutes later, Finn reminded himself grimly that nobody ever means ten minutes when they say ten minutes. Mario should have had a better backup plan, what if Mike wasn't coming at all? But Mike finally arrived, looking stressed, and they were given the signal to go on.

* * *

By the time they were done and Finn could check the time, it was after eight, and Finn was desperate. He only had a little more than an hour left to get cleaned up and over to NYADA, and the subway would take most of that.

"Finn." Della, one of the dancers, paused in the door. "You need a ride tonight, right? I can drop you off at the subway."

"That's great," Finn answered, relieved. New York traffic and parking would never have let him make it to NYADA on time, that's why he hadn't driven, but on the subway he still had a chance even with the delay; getting a ride there would make all the difference. "When are you leaving?"

"Right now, I'm late to pick up the children as it is." She looked ready to go; her last number had been one of the earlier ones, and everyone was scrambling to clear out before the other group moved in.

_Shit._ Finn took a quick glance at himself in the mirror, still all made up, the tan makeup starting to streak from the sweat brought on by his exertions. _I guess I should be able to take care of it on the way there._ He pulled his jacket on, closed it over the hated costume shirt, and grabbed his bag. "Thank you so much," he told Della as he followed her outside, glad that at least the others were nice people even though Mario wasn't.

Della drove him the mile-and-a-half to the nearest subway stop. As they went, he picked at the fake moustache but found that it was mostly stuck; two previous days of abrading his skin had made the adhesive grip more strongly, and he didn't have anything to help wash it off. He got some of the edges, but all that did was make it droop rather badly. He certainly didn't want to risk tearing his skin away, and while he managed to get one of the sideburns off, all that showed was how fake the rest of the makeup was.

Della gave him a glance. "I think it's either all or nothing," she said. "You're just making it worse by pawing at it."

"I guess so," Finn said, giving the moustache a last tug and failing to get it free. "I'll have to wash it off when I can." At least they were meeting at NYADA, there should be a public washroom where he could clean off.

Once Della dropped him off at the subway, Finn checked the time, and cursed. Depending on the subway times, he might not make it. A quick call to Rachel produced no answer, but he really didn't have any concrete thing to say. It was still early for her, since she was closer; maybe she was in the shower or something.

He called Kurt, who said she'd already left for NYADA, something about meeting James earlier.

"She's meeting him before this?" Finn didn't like the sound of that.

"She said there was something for his project that he wanted her to listen to. I don't know any more about it than that."

Finn grumbled, not liking the sound of this _at all._ Rachel had told him all she was doing for the project was sing, why would she need to listen to something? And now, when he might have to bail on her, for there to be another guy around... _argh._ "Shit. Look, I'm running late, the gig got backed up, and she's not answering. I'm trying to get there but I might not."

"And I need to know this why?"

"Look, if she calls in, can you tell her? Please? I don't want to leave a message until I know for sure." He certainly didn't want to disappoint her while she was in some sort of cozy listening room with that James dude.

"Finn! I don't know what's going on, but I know she's been really looking forward to seeing you -"

But the subway was coming soon, so Finn cut Kurt off. He didn't need to hear the lecture anyway, he was pretty sure he knew how it went. "I'm sorry, okay? Just - sorry, I have to go." He put his phone away and raced down the stairs.

On the subway he attracted stares, which he figured must mean he looked pretty bad. New Yorkers preferred to act like they'd seen it all and sometimes really had. He caught his reflection in the glass, and cringed; even with the poor reflection, he could tell how badly the heavy makeup had streaked and the fluttering of the half-peeled-off moustache. There was even evidence of his fingers from where he'd tried to get the fake hair off.

A small boy with his parents pointed at him, whispering something to the man, and Finn did his best to ignore the mocking expression the kid had. He was already tense enough every time they seemed slow leaving a station, watching the minutes slip away from him.

* * *

At NYADA he headed into the first building he could find, and luckily found a washroom right away. It was immediately clear, however, that the environmentally friendly foaming soap provided was completely inadequate for the job of getting rid of the thick tan cream that still caked his skin, or the fake facial hair.

_Fuck._ And he was out of time, they would be waiting. _Rachel_ would be waiting. Finn left the washroom and headed towards the place she'd told him they would be meeting. Maybe it was fitting that whatever was probably about to happen occur in the same place where they'd had their argument, he figured numbly.

_Hell._ Finn's steps slowed as he approached. This whole night had disaster written all over it. But after everything else, all the frustration of January, even of everything that had happened and how they had both felt since his dumb train stunt... he was emotionally and physically exhausted. _What's one more disaster, I guess,_ he mocked himself.

He couldn't walk away from Rachel, not again, not now that he was getting more of a sense of just how special they could be to each other. What was it that that friend of Scott had kept saying, that guy he'd met at the Christmas party who referred to everyone as "buddy"? _"Go big or go home."_

Well this wasn't big, it was a joke, as if someone had invented it to torture him. But if he wasn't going to measure up, at least he'd know he tried. _"Never run away,"_ his mind reminded him, those words that had made him think it was Rachel singing to him.

But he looked like a horror show, he'd completely embarrass himself, and Rachel too. She'd be humiliated, he shouldn't...

... or was he just telling himself that because he _wanted_ to bail?

He got closer and saw what he was sure was the group, quite a lot of them, maybe about forty. _Shit. Really public, this is like the entire class and more._ And he spotted Rachel, pacing a little, obviously looking for him, her posture tense, worried. She looked more dressed up that the others, her hair and makeup done more than a class outing would call for even at night, and his stomach sank further as he realized she'd dressed up for him, to make this as much of a date for them as she could. Meanwhile, he looked like a freak. _Fuck._

He should at least talk to her, let her know what was going on. She would want that. If he had to make it up to her later about how he looked, he could give it a shot, but there was no making up for not showing or only calling her at this point, not when he had a chance to be there. And if she was pulling away, he wouldn't do it for her, not this time.

Finn summoned his courage, squared his shoulders, and walked towards the group.

* * *

_Please review! I'm very grateful to my faithful reviewers who keep me going._


	22. Night Divides the Day

Rachel's back was turned as he approached, but one of the guys in the group spotted him and nudged his friend, then pointed him out. They were clearly snickering. And the friend - yep, that asshole Greg he'd met at the NYADA afterparty, the one who'd been after Rachel and hadn't respected her lack of interest. _Great, just great._ He looked for Sean, hoping to find that ally, but there was no sign of him. _Focus on Rachel,_ he reminded himself. _Ignore everyone else._

Rachel turned, clearly attracted by the activity pointing him out. She blinked. "_Finn?_" she called out, sounding - puzzled? stunned? horrified? He hoped it wasn't the last. She came towards him as he walked up.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Rach, it's the new gig..." He did his best to ignore the laughter from what seemed like a lot of the group. "It's in costume, and it ran late so I didn't have time. I wanted to at least see you and tell you. I am so sorry."

"It's okay." She was having a hard time looking at him, though, he could tell, and her smile seemed forced. "I'm glad you came anyway."

"Really?"

"Yes. It would help if you'd told me what you were doing, but - yes." She leaned up to him and gave him a kiss, though with the drooping fake moustache it didn't work out that well. She wiped her mouth, probably trying to get rid of how it had felt.

"Guess we can move out now," Greg called out. "Should have left before. Guess there's a spare ticket after all."

Finn frowned as the group started to walk along the path, but Rachel caught his hand and encouraged him to walk with her. "Only if you're deciding not to go," she called back.

Finn paled beneath his makeup at the thought of continuing like this with the obvious mockery that was going to continue, even worse if they got a good look at him under brighter light, and worse still if he had to take his jacket off at the show. But if Rachel wanted him to go... he was just glad she wasn't turning him away. He tightened his hand around hers and fell into step with her.

"James, everyone, this is Finn, my boyfriend," Rachel called out as they walked, and Finn glanced at her, seeing the determined set to her head. "He was working late and couldn't change."

"It happens," the older man called back, and Finn figured that was James. "Glad you could make it, Finn."

"Hold on a moment," she whispered to Finn, then hurried over to talk to James.

_That's the guy she's been spending all that time with on his project, _he thought. _Good-looking, still young, self-assured..._ Finn frowned. She talked to the guy quietly, standing close, almost intimate. Finn's stomach lurched. Then she came quickly back to him.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand and pulling him off to the side, towards one of the NYADA buildings.

"Don't you have to go?"

"James is going to leave two tickets for us at the box office. We can catch up."

_Guess she wants to talk to me in private,_ Finn thought. _Rarely good._ But Rachel didn't seem mad, and she usually didn't hide that sort of reaction. Though she might in front of her classmates and TA.

"You certainly came to the right place," Rachel commented, but he had no idea what she meant by that. She led him into the building and down the hall, Finn following numbly. She tried a door marked "Backstage". "Good, it's open." She took him through the door into the theater's backstage area. "This shouldn't take that long. Sit."

Finn sat gingerly down on the chair she indicated, next to one of the makeup mirrors. Rachel turned on the lights around the mirror, and Finn cringed, both from the sudden light and also from knowing that she was going to get a very good look at just how dreadful the makeup looked.

Rachel grimaced too. "I hope the lighting wasn't this strong at your gig," she said, and seemed to be trying to smile. "But we should have no problem getting rid of it here." She took the bag from his hand. "Jacket?" Finn took his jacket off, his eyes closed so as not to see Rachel's reaction to his shirt. She took it from his hand, and he could feel her finger the ruffle on the shirt. "Shirt too, unless you want to leave it on." Her voice sounded amused. He wasn't sure whether that was good or not.

"I have another shirt with me," he protested, pulling the shirt off over his head. He opened his eyes as she took it from him, seeing her face right before his, her eyes dark, her expression unreadable.

"Close your eyes." He complied, and felt her hand on his face, rubbing some sort of cream onto his skin. It felt cool, good, and he finally realized why she'd brought him here, backstage at a theater there would of course be good stuff for getting makeup off. Maybe she wasn't going to be mad at all. He relaxed, relieved, his mind quieting and letting himself simply feel her hand on his face. It was... kind of hot, actually. Intimate. Her other hand, holding his head still, fingers threaded through his hair - he hadn't felt her touch him like that since graduation.

She rubbed some into the area around the fake moustache, and then stopped. "This will probably hurt a little," she said, and he winced in pain as she ripped the fake hair from his face with a quick tug. She did the same to the remaining sideburn. "Does that sting?"

"A bit," he breathed.

"I'll go get some water, hold on a minute." Finn sat there, keeping his eyes closed, and soon heard Rachel's footsteps, returning. He felt a wet cloth gently wipe his face, and his raw patches of skin stung less. He felt her hand on him again, now on his collarbone. "Should I keep going?"

"Sure. Thanks." Her hand resumed rubbing cream into his skin, now on his neck and chest.

"It's the most I've seen of you alone in a while," she said softly as she continued. "I've missed you."

_Time, or skin? Both, maybe._ He could feel her so close to him, her small hands gently stroking the skin over his sternum, and his body was reacting to the contact and her nearness. "I've missed you too."

She bent down, her hair brushing his face. "One more," she said, and Finn yelped as she tore away the patch of fake hair from his chest. "Sorry."

"Had to be done." He felt the wet cloth on his chest now, soothing him and cleaning away the cream. Finn's heart thudded at the touch.

"Is that better?"

"Mostly." He felt her hair tickle his skin, there was a puff of air over the raw area, and then... Finn shivered as he felt Rachel's lips gently touch the spot.

"How about now?" Rachel's hand came up to stroke his collarbone.

"Much better..." His blood was starting to pound. He felt her gently kiss the side of his jaw, then right above his lips, her hands holding his head steady. She stayed there for a moment, her breath panting hot against his skin, before lowering to kiss his lips hungrily. And did that ever feel _good_.

Finn enfolded her in his arms, kissing her back, then felt her scramble up onto his lap. She straddled him, her body pressing tightly to his. She rubbed against him as their tongues tangled, and Finn found his hands wandering past the hiked-up hem of her dress to fondle her ass.

"_Finn._" Rachel moaned and nibbled at his neck before returning to his lips.

"God, Rach." He felt her grind against him, and he gasped. "What about the show," he blurted, regretting it immediately when she froze. He opened his eyes.

"The show. Right. So important." Rachel slid off him. "I forgot all about it," she admitted, then giggled. "I'm sure you can understand why."

Finn stood, blushing. "Yeah." That had been so hot, far hotter and closer than they'd been since May. He looked at Rachel, her dress sliding back down her thighs from where it had been pulled up, her hair mussed and lips bruised from their kisses, her nipples showing taut through her dress. He wanted nothing more than to have his way with her, and she looked like she was already halfway there. She did need to go to the show, though, and she would have regretted missing it if they'd forgotten it. He tried to get himself under control and glanced at himself in the mirror; aside from being naked from the waist up, and reacting to their encounter, he actually looked normal. He took a step towards where he'd dropped his bag with his shirt, only to have her hand snake out and stop him before he could take another.

She flicked her eyes down his body, and he reddened as she slowly rose them back up to meet his. The mailman image hadn't been very effective, not with her having just been straddling him, especially when it had been so long since they'd done anything like that. He was still very aroused, and clearly she could tell. And from the way she was looking at him, she liked it.

"I really can't let you go out like that," she stated, her gaze heated, and all Finn could manage to do was back up against the counter as her hands traced down his bare chest to his belt. She loosed him and looked up at him with a serious-looking smile. "May I?"

_Uh, what? Is she serious?_ "Yeah," he gasped out. At this point she could do whatever she wanted to him. Even the suggestion of it had him even more hard. Rachel knelt, and -

_Oh God. RACHEL. Baby. Sweet merciful -_

It had been so long since he'd felt _that_, so unexpected, and Finn arched his head back against the makeup mirror, groaning out his pleasure. It certainly didn't take her long to finish him off.

She swallowed, then looked up at him sweetly as she tucked him back into his pants. "Now you're completely clean and presentable." She stood, and passed him his bag, which he took numbly; his mind definitely wasn't "clean and presentable", but it would have to do.

He quickly pulled on the black polo he'd brought with him while she fixed her own grooming and popped a breath mint into her mouth, and he gave her a quick vague kiss before following her back out.

* * *

They walked to the theater largely in silence, Rachel clearly going as fast as she could. They were rather late, after all, though they did manage to make it into the theater and find their seats just before the curtain went up. The place didn't look like much, though it had been done up fancy in its past and was now faded, not kept up. The show... people came out and sang, and danced, and Finn's mind wasn't on any of it.

At intermission they milled in the lobby, Rachel excusing herself to go to the washroom, Finn getting their usual drinks from the lobby bar. The line took a little while, and then he waited, feeling like an idiot since he didn't know any of the others. He couldn't just go up to them and start talking, could he? Though he still wanted to make a solid impression on that James dude that Rachel was off-limits.

After a while a small group of girls exited from the washroom. Rachel wasn't among them, but the others caught him looking in their direction and started giggling amongst themselves as they covertly looked at him and then walked past.

_Great. Just great,_ Finn thought sarcastically. _Way to make an impression, Hudson._ He moved around a little, but as usual he knew six-foot-three of awkwardness didn't hide well if at all.

"You'd never catch me dead looking like that," he heard someone say with a nasty laugh, and that was Galen again. He was quite a few feet away, but he was clearly saying it deliberately loud enough for Finn to hear.

"Oh, you would have stood your girl up, I suppose," one of the girls nearby said, her tone cutting. She was medium height, a redhead, and stood with a flamboyantly dressed pale blond guy and a tall girl with light brown skin and straight black hair. They looked a little older than that giggling group of girls. "Good to know."

"I don't think Greg has a girl right now, or if he does he's keeping it very quiet," the guy put in.

The girl laughed. "I think we now know why." Greg frowned and walked off.

Finn turned away to hide his relief at being defended. He hoped Rachel would be back soon, though, she was taking a while.

"So, you're the famous Finn, huh?" The guy had walked up to Finn, and now gave him a lingering look and a smile. "I'm Morris. You clean up _very_ well."

"I, uh, had help," Finn stammered out, reddening, partly because the dude was clearly flirting with him, partly because of the recent memories that the comment had brought up. _Boy did I ever have help._

"Relax, big boy, just yanking your chain," Morris said. "Even if there was a chance you swung my way Rachel would kill me. Though I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind to wonder who the man is that she's got it so bad for. Can't fault her taste."

"S'okay," Finn replied, trying and failing to pull his mind away from the "cleaning up" part of his evening. _'Can't fault her taste', huh? Can't say I mind hearing that. Heh. Hope she liked **my** taste._

Another man approached them, and this time it was James, the TA. "Hey, Finn," he said. "It's good to meet you. I'm glad you managed to make it."

"Uh, me too," Finn replied reflexively, then wondered if he should say something about the show. It had sounded good, but his brain had really been elsewhere, still engulfed in the shock of what Rachel had done, and fighting the urge to want her to do it again. Or more, much more. It was so far out of left field, it felt like it should be a dream or something. "It's good to meet you too. Rachel's been really into that project you're doing." Which - presumably was just a project? Unless all this weirdness was cover for something else? Nothing made sense to him right now so he decided to just ride it out.

"She's been great to work with. Very professional attitude. Not like those guys," James went on, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at some of the others. "The way they acted when you arrived, you'd think they'd never seen someone in makeup before. In seven years when they're still struggling to get a knuckledragging part as 'Winged Monkey Number 3' maybe they'll finally see things differently." He chuckled. "Guess I should go be responsible. I want to talk to you about something sometime soon, though, Finn - I'll have Rachel pass on my number, okay? See you."

"Yeah, okay, see you around," Finn responded as James went off. He was startled, again; he had no idea what the dude might want to talk to him about, and given the jealous thoughts he'd been having there were some not remotely good possibilities. But after how she'd acted backstage and what she'd done, Rachel had made her choice very clear. He turned his attention back to Morris with a nod, trying to put his confusion aside.

"Well you know _I_ don't have any problem with dressing up," Morris commented with another flirty wink.

"If you say so," Finn tossed back. "Isn't that like a stereotype though?"

Morris laughed, sounding genuine. "True. You're easing up pretty fast, guess I just startled you."

"Yeah, well - my stepbrother's gay, and Rachel's dads are too, the Midwest isn't as backward as people think."

"Oh, don't I know it." Morris nodded. "I'm from Wisconsin, I just came here for school two years ago. It's just fun to play the stereotypical superior New Yorker." He raised an eyebrow. "So, your stepbrother, huh? Any chance he lives in New York too?"

"He moved here a few weeks ago."

"Ooh, a newcomer, my favorite." Morris grinned. "Maybe we could get together for a night out. I've been wanting to meet Rachel's roommate as well, we could make a fabulous threesome of it. Though," he said with an exaggerated pout, "it'd be just my luck for them to hit it off and make me the third wheel."

Finn laughed at the utter impossibility of that, attracting a puzzled and slightly offended look from Morris. "Uh, Rachel's roommate _is_ my stepbrother," he explained hurriedly, not wanting to have the man think he was rude. "But he's serious with someone back home, so -" he was interrupted by feeling Rachel's hand loop over his arm, and he felt more relaxed immediately with her back by his side.

"Who is serious with someone back home?" she said, pulling close to him.

"Kurt," Finn explained.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Not that again, Morris. This is New York, don't you have plenty of other opportunities?"

"None that have as nice friends as you," Morris shot back with a smile. "It sounds like you've got quite the cozy set, you can't fault me for wanting in."

"You just don't want to admit you miss the Midwest. Or -"

"- at least Midwesterners," Morris chimed in, and he and Rachel laughed. They'd clearly had this discussion before.

Finn handed Rachel her sparkling water. "So, uh, you're a junior?" he asked Morris, a little confused by hearing when the guy had moved to New York.

"Yes," Morris nodded. Finn looked around at the rest of the NYADA group; a lot of them did seem a bit older. "This is mostly the Voice Three class, though a few brownnosing wannabes like Galen came from the freshman group class because James works with all of us, and I got a couple of other juniors to come too. I'm in Voice Three with Rachel, she's the only one in both."

"The individual technique classes are placed by ability assessment," Rachel explained quickly. She sounded a little embarrassed, though as far as Finn was concerned she should be proud, he certainly was proud of her for placing into a more advanced class. He wished she'd told him before, but... things had been tense. He hoped they'd be able to tell each other more now.

The lights flickered, warning them that intermission was almost over, and they quickly finished their drinks and returned to their seats for the second half.

* * *

After the show the group gradually parted ways, with some heading back to NYADA and others to the subway. They weren't alone again until they alit from the subway at Rachel's stop, Finn wanting to see her home safe and have a chance to talk. If he didn't get the night's events to make sense now, he figured they never would.

They were walking hand-in-hand up her street when he finally spoke.

"Rachel - what happened tonight?" He looked down at her, seeing her puzzled face, and tried to explain further. "It's surreal, I mean I thought it was going to be a disaster, I looked hideous, I really shouldn't have come like that at all, and they were laughing at me like I expected, and then..." He shook his head. While he liked that it hadn't been a disaster after all, the massive 180 between being mocked by Rachel's classmates to her going down on him backstage at NYADA had given his brain what felt like a form of concussion.

Rachel walked more closely to him, pulling his hand to her until it touched her body. "You were grotesque," she admitted. "But it takes a lot more than that to make a disaster. I was there, you were there - when we're together, it's not a disaster. We can refuse to let it be one."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. And Greg Galen and his little group of bullies shouldn't be listened to. He's not even that good despite over a decade of training, how he managed to get admitted instead of Kurt is a mystery. It just takes someone to stand up to him, and you did."

"_I_ did?" He'd thought that was her, and that James guy, and the red-haired girl who'd sniped back.

"Yes. You didn't react to them, you came to me with your head held high. That's all it took. I just had your back, and the others followed. The older ones especially, they're certainly not going to hold a costume and makeup against someone, once you showed you weren't going to let it stop you. Greg will probably have far less people going along with him, after tonight."

Then she had done a great job having his back - and she'd been great with how she'd treated his front, too. He pulled their joined hands back towards himself, and bent down to drop a kiss on the back of her hand. "I love you." She'd been right, he had to let her love him, let her have his back when things weren't perfect. Tonight, she'd proven that she would if he let her. His own residual tension from that long-held worry started to loosen inside.

She smiled. "I love you too. Thank you for coming tonight." They arrived at her building, and stopped. She looked up at him impishly. "Both times."

Finn blushed, grinning at her innuendo. "I definitely didn't expect _that_." He pulled her close to him, feeling her body against his, remembering how it had felt. Maybe they were a lot further ahead than he thought, if she could just do that, even though it was clearly on impulse. He gave her a slow deep kiss. "Any time," he murmured.

"Really," Rachel said with a slightly tentative giggle. "How about... now?"

_Uh, what?_ Finn's eyes widened, but all he could do was blink down at her stupidly. "Here?" He looked at the street. He was sure she was sober, he hadn't tasted alcohol in any of their kisses, and all she'd drunk at the show had been water. And while she seemed a little giddy, that wasn't unusual for a happy Rachel. What had come over her? He couldn't take advantage of this, could he? If she had regrets it would kill him.

"Come up," Rachel said, tugging at his hand again. "You don't have anything tomorrow morning, right? So stay with me." She pressed herself tightly to him, reaching up to touch his cheek. He could feel himself growing hard - _harder_ - at the contact. "Not just to sleep. We can continue what we couldn't before."

_Wow_, he thought. "Are you sure? Not that you wouldn't be, just..." He tried to get control of his babbling. "If we do this, and then it goes away, it's too fast for you or something... I don't know if I could take it," he admitted.

"I couldn't," Rachel replied, but he wasn't sure what she meant by that until she continued. "I know I can't take it because I couldn't, when it happened. And I'd never do that to you."

_Shit. Did not mean to bring that up._

"So trust me, I'm sure I want this. _You._ One hundred percent sure."

_Wow. I don't think I could turn that down if I tried._ Finn let her lead him in, and up a few steps, then froze. "I don't have anything," he said when she turned back to him with a questioning look. "Condoms. I should -"

She smiled. "I have some," she said. "The theater washroom had a vending machine, so I bought a few."

"A few?"

"It's good to be prepared." She blushed as he raised his eyebrow to her. "They can break."

"Or we might want more than one." He tugged her back to him, the extra step of the stairs helping her meet his height.

"We might," she agreed, and kissed him deeply. "Come on, let's not give my neighbors too much of a show."

"They actually had those in the theater washroom, huh. I guess that place was kind of a dive," Finn commented.

Rachel nodded. "But with excellent acoustics."

As he followed her up again, he remembered how the other girls had looked at him when they had come back from the washroom. "Was that why those girls that came out of the washroom before you were giggling when they looked at me? Did they see you buy them?"

Rachel smothered a self-conscious laugh. "Probably." She looked back at him. "But you're my man, I really don't care if everyone knew what I intended." Finn grinned and kept following her up, looking at her ass move in front of him and letting his ardor build. _Finally._ God, how he wanted and loved her. And that she'd made no secret of her intentions to him, even to her classmates when he'd looked so dreadful at first meeting them - that was so hot. And this wasn't spur of the moment, she must have been thinking about it - about _him_ - the whole time. Even after seeing him in that awful makeup and ruffled shirt. And none of that, how he'd looked, that awful gig, or her classmates' initial reaction had stopped her from calling him hers.

Finn followed Rachel into the apartment, which was otherwise dark. It was late, there was no evidence of Kurt aside from his shoes on the rack by the door, though these thoughts were fleeting. His blood was starting to hammer in his ears. _This is really happening. It's over, she's not pulling away any more._

He went with her into her room, dropping his bag by the foot of the bed as she closed the door and turned to him, her demeanor showing her want for him. But he paused. He wanted this so much, and clearly she did too, but was this really how it should happen?

"Why now?" he asked, getting a small flashback to when he'd asked that long before. "Or does me making a fool of myself actually turn you on?" He'd looked pitiful, he knew that, but he didn't want pity from her. He had always had a lingering fear that she'd given him her virginity when she did because she felt sorry for him, to give him a boost because he'd been so devastated by the football recruiter. She'd continued their physical relationship enthusiastically, he hadn't had any doubts about her interest, but he didn't want to restart it the wrong way. He needed to feel strong.

"You being willing to make a fool of yourself turns me on," Rachel explained, looking serious. "Finn... what you did tonight, I know it was very hard for you. But that you did it, that you were willing to be completely embarrassed, even in front of all those people I know at NYADA, in order to keep a commitment to me and _be_ with me - it touches me so much. That you took that gig, too, I can tell you don't like a lot about doing it and the way things are going for you right now, but you're persevering. You're not giving up on yourself or on us, and that means - oh Finn, it means _everything_."

_I did that? I guess..._ Unwilling to take too much credit when he'd considered bailing, Finn also found he was unable to turn away. _That's what she needed? I..._ He considered it. _I let her choose,_ he realized. _One of the biggest disasters, potential disasters, but I didn't give up or run away from her. I chose to be with her anyway and let her choose to be with me._ He exhaled, his blood pumping faster as he slowly walked towards her. It hadn't been the sort of heroics he'd dreamed about impressing her with, but if anything that had just made it harder, fighting himself and how he thought the world saw him. _'I know it was very hard for you...'_ Not pity at all, she understood his strength even more than he had himself.

Like he'd actually gotten that do-over he'd wanted, and this time he'd done it right.

"I know we've had trouble connecting recently, and you've been struggling with the band, but you're not letting any of that stop you or scare you away from being here with me." She paused. "This - it feels _real_. Us. Like we should be."

Finn looked at Rachel, feeling what she meant, his own long-held tension receding, his own heart healing. The tear that had grown through most of senior year, that had become a full-fledged hole with his rejection from Pace and a gaping wound at the train station and after, that had started festering again during the futility of the last month - it closed, faced with the clear evidence that he _could_ be what she needed, that he _was_, all he had to do was keep fighting for what he wanted. He saw her, her eyes dark, her lips parted, her hand held out, wanting and loving him. Trusting him. And he, in turn, finally trusting her to keep loving him.

"Yeah." He stepped closer, thrilling as her face turned up to his for a searing kiss. She snaked her hand behind her back, starting to unzip her dress, but he put his hand over hers. "Let me." _I let her love me, let her have my back, and damn is she ever good at it. My turn._

Finn slowly lowered the zipper of her dress, his face buried in her neck, breathing in her scent. Her dress slid down her body to the floor, and he whimpered involuntarily, feeling her soft warm skin under his hands as they traced down her back as if moving on their own. Her skin, the lace of her underwear - he wasn't sure he dared look, he wanted to hold and touch her forever.

She leaned up to his ear and whispered into it. "That's not to say that it wasn't extraordinarily erotic to clean you up - because it so was."

"I bet that's got nothing on how it feels to have you clean me up. And, uh, _off_." Finn cut off Rachel's responding giggle by dropping his mouth onto hers. He kissed her, then: "So you've been thinking about this all night, huh?" he asked huskily.

"All night... or months. Longer, much longer." She slowly slid her hands up under his shirt. "Actually, let's not talk about how long I've been wanting and missing you like this -"

_Right. Don't kill the mood. Just accept that she wants me and always has._

"- just let's not miss it any more."

Finn shuddered at the feeling of her hands stroking up his chest, and he let himself go, giving himself over to what they both wanted so much. He pulled his shirt off over his head and lowered to kiss her, then held her firmly as she scrambled up to wrap her legs around his waist.

_God yes._ It had been a long day though, so he quickly carried her the few steps needed to lay her down on her bed, then stripped his pants off and joined her.

They made short work of each other's remaining clothes, almost exploding from long-denied need as their bodies entwined.

"Are you mine?" Finn breathed, preparing. Okay it was a he-man way of putting it and a little desperate, but he needed to hear her say it, needed to know for sure.

"Heart and soul, if you take me," came her reply in his ear as she clutched him even more closely to her.

His future, his girl, his life - his, if he took them. He would, he vowed to himself. He'd grab them tightly and never let them go again, whatever happened. "I love you Rach." And then - God, that exquisite feel of her around him, better than ever. Hearing her moan for him and with him, her legs tightly around him to spur him on... he gave himself over to her and to the sensations flooding him, this was them, this was so right.

She was his. She'd always been his and always would be, just like he knew he would always be hers.

* * *

_Title lyric is from "Break on Through (To the Other Side)", performed and written by The Doors.  
_

* * *

_If you're happy and you know it... please review!_


	23. Morning

_A/N: Much thanks to all who have been reviewing! I'm glad to see so many of you enjoying what I've put together._

* * *

Rachel awoke still feeling blissful, and enjoyed the feel of Finn's strong arms tightening around her as she stretched. She turned her face to him, smiling as she saw him slowly blink awake.

"Hello there," she said.

"Hello yourself," Finn answered, his cheek dimpling, his warm eyes sinking into hers. "Sleep well?"

"The best. I feel... oh, like I've found the best drug in the world." Finn's face fell a little, and she speedily corrected his possible misapprehension, no she hadn't been on anything. "You, I mean. My drug of choice is you." She beamed at him, and he returned her smile before closing in for a kiss.

She stroked Finn's bare chest, enjoying being able to touch him again in such casual intimacy, feeling so in sync. He didn't usually sleep without a shirt, but there hadn't been one for him to change into once they'd cleaned up, not that she minded at all. They'd kept each other warm. She smiled as she felt his heart beat under her hand, strong and fast. His muscles were tighter than they'd been, she decided, more toned. But still every inch of him was her Finn.

He flinched a little as she ran her hand over the raw patch where the fake hair had been.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rachel said softly. "Your poor skin." She kissed it, much as she had backstage at NYADA. "There's a cream you can use, to put underneath the adhesive to make it easier to get off. I'll find some for you."

Finn smiled and trapped her hand under his, then brought it up to his lips. He slowly kissed every finger, then her palm, and she sighed happily.

"I love you," he murmured lazily, his eyes sinking into hers. "And what you said last night, you were right. I'm not going anywhere, whatever it takes."

"I know. I love you too, so much, it's like - like I can let myself feel it all again." She pursed her lips, not sure she was really expressing what she meant. "Does that make sense? I can't seem to find the right words."

Finn chuckled. "Guess I'm rubbing off on you."

"Please do." Rachel giggled.

He leaned over to embrace her again. "Yes I get what you mean. Me too."

They kissed again, then Finn's stomach growled loudly. Rachel groaned.

"I'm a terrible girlfriend," she said, pouting a little as she disentangled herself from him. "You came straight from your gig to meet me for the show, you must be starving. When was the last time you ate?"

"Food?" Finn asked, teasing her with a lustful look, and she blushed at the memory.

"Seriously, you need to keep your strength up. I'll go steal some of Kurt's meat, he won't mind since it's in a good cause." Rachel got up, straightened her tank top and sleep shorts, and pulled on her black silk robe. "I'm sure you'll smell it when it's ready."

Finn caught her hand as she skirted the bed, and he leaned up for a kiss. "You're an amazing girlfriend. Don't tell yourself any different." Rachel beamed and went out into the kitchen.

* * *

Kurt had some bacon, just a little for special occasions or garnish because he said it was too fatty, so Rachel had no guilt about stealing it to cook for Finn. She did give Kurt a guilty smile when he came into the kitchen as she was frying it, however.

"Good morning," she chirped, her smile beaming at him, but all she got in response was a glare.

"You're smiling." Kurt huffed, his ire evident. "I cannot believe you are actually _smiling_."

_What...? Is he... pissed off, were we too loud or something? That's it, we must have woken him up._

"I'm sorry you had to hear any of that," she stated, still smiling, too happy to do anything else.

"You don't seem the slightest bit sorry," Kurt shot back, still glaring. And all right, she wasn't really that sorry. "And how you look - I can't believe you'd do that to Finn," he hissed. "Or yourself."

Rachel was startled. Kurt had understandably never wanted to think about the things his best friend and his brother got up to before. And while she'd certainly done a few things to Finn last night, and he to her, she had no idea which of them Kurt meant, and definitely didn't want to ask. She didn't think any of them had been particularly unusual, and though she probably did look like they'd been making love, she wouldn't think any specific activity would have left a mark other than the love bites Finn had given her. She'd given Finn some in return, but Kurt wouldn't be able to tell that by looking at _her_ and anyway _so what?_

"I know the two of you haven't been having the easiest time recently, and you've had problems for a while," Kurt continued, his voice rising as he got increasingly agitated. "But you were working on them, and I know how much you both love each other. And he was just caught late at work, I can't believe you'd go so far as to -"

"Kurt." Finn's urgent voice cut Kurt off. Kurt turned to see his brother standing in Rachel's doorway clad only in his boxers, then turned back to look at Rachel, who had now realized that he had thought she'd brought some other man home. She gritted her teeth and gave him a venomous glare that outdid his previous look to her by several orders of magnitude.

"You _seriously_ thought I would - that I would _do_ such a thing?" Rachel spat out, furious.

Kurt raised his hands defensively and backed away, panicking. "I _said_ I couldn't believe it!"

Finn burst out laughing. "Sorry, Rach, I think some of this is my fault," he said, still chortling at Kurt's discomfiture. "I called him last night when I was running late and told him I didn't think I'd make it." He sobered. "But seriously? You should have known it was me, bro."

"And if you thought I'd completely taken leave of my senses, the time to bring me to them would have been last night," Rachel added.

"I'm sorry, I..." Kurt shook his head. "I don't know what I was thinking," he said ruefully.

Rachel waved the cooking fork at him. "You're just lucky I'm too happy to hold a grudge right now."

"Yeah?" Finn came up behind her and smiled down at her, winding an arm around her waist.

"Yes." She turned her face up to him for a kiss. "Like there's anyone else I'd cook bacon for," she commented, giving Kurt another pointed look. "Even you have to cook your own."

"Which that is. Fine, yes, I should have known," Kurt admitted. "I'll just run out to the bakery, all right?" He turned and made for the door. "Just put some clothes on, Finn, _please_."

Finn and Rachel laughed together as Kurt left, then Finn turned down to look at her again.

"You would have wanted him to stop you, if you had been with someone else?" he asked.

"Of course," she answered seriously. "I would have had to be completely out of my mind with despair or self-loathing or _something_ to consider it as things were, and what are best friends for if not to stop one from ruining one's life?"

"I don't think he did hear us last night," Finn said. "I have way too many memories of how you were, uh, 'saying' my name to believe he could have heard us and not known it was me. I wasn't exactly quiet either."

Rachel smiled and turned over the bacon in the pan. "True. He must have had his headphones on the entire time. So I'll forgive him for not stopping me from making the mistake I wasn't making."

Finn shook his head at her convoluted phrasing. "And for his assumption this morning?"

"Eventually. How he could think I'd be this happy if you weren't _you_, I'll never know." She turned to him. "How _do_ I look, after all?"

Finn looked her up and down, his gaze possessive, grinning as his eyes slid over the marks he'd left on her neck. "Like you've been thoroughly made love to by someone who adores you."

"And whom I adore. Yes. Therefore, _you_." She looked back at him, noting with appreciation her marks by his collarbone. Finn had been thorough all right; after their first more frenzied coupling and the euphoria at their physical reunion and renewed understanding, he'd rolled her onto her back and slowly explored her, fondling, caressing, and kissing every inch of her. She felt so wanted, claimed and possessed by the only one she would want to do that, Finn showing that nothing would stop him from making her his, not any more. She had returned the adoring attention as much as she could, but looking at his bare chest made her want to start all over again. "He is right that you should get dressed, though, you're too much of a distraction the way you are. You can use my body wash if you want to shower."

"Not that I don't like the smell of that stuff, but I prefer it on you. I'll just use the soap, that'll be fine for now." Finn gave her another kiss and went to get his clothes from her room. He laughed again as he made his way to the bathroom. "Funny how one big thing has changed over the years, though," he said.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, curious. She took the bacon out of the pan and covered it to keep it warm.

Finn poked his head out of the bathroom. "Way back when we first got together - I wouldn't have been caught mostly undressed in front of Kurt. And he wouldn't have told me to get dressed."

Rachel laughed. "And Kurt and I hardly got along. You do make a very good pair of brothers, now."

"We do." The shower started, and Rachel's heart warmed even more as she heard Finn start to sing: (*)

_We sailed on together, we drifted apart_  
_And here you are by my side_

_So now I come to you with open arms_  
_Nothing to hide, believe what I say_  
_So here I am with open arms..._

She could feel the joy in his voice as it touched her, matching how she felt herself.

Rachel's appreciation of Finn's singing, and most of all of the fact that Finn was happily singing to her from her shower, was interrupted by a chirp from her room. She went quickly to check her phone for a message, but found it wasn't hers; Finn had a message, showing plainly on the face of his phone.

From: Santana Lopez  
_Where the hell are you? Better be dead in a ditch or spending all night finally boning Berry, to not come home and not let me know._

Rachel flushed deeply at Santana's bluntness. But she looked at it again, and picked Finn's phone up to reply... then thought better of it and retrieved her own phone.

Quickly, before she could change her mind, she tapped out a message to Santana: _Half the night. We had to get some sleep eventually. _She gingerly pressed send, then jerked her hand back to her mouth as if her phone's screen had burned her.

After a few breaths to get herself under control, she giggled self-consciously and put both phones back where they had been. Let Santana make of that what she would.

"That yowling is clearly my brother," Kurt said, re-entering the apartment, and she returned to the kitchen to meet him. "If I'd just waited a little longer I could have easily avoided the prior confusion." His concerned smile, though, softened his words. "But are you sure you're not moving too fast? Less than a week ago you were practically sniping at each other."

"Because we missed each other. Because we were both scared and holding back." Rachel gave a happy sigh. "We're not holding back any more."

"And you're not scared?"

"It's terrifying, taking that leap again. But I'm sure we're both taking it, and oh how I love him."

Kurt put two paper bags of pastries on the counter. "What changed?"

"I think... I just needed a sign, that it was going to be different this time. And I got one." Her old fears that Finn's pride was more important to him than she was, he'd proven those unfounded, quite spectacularly. And though he still had his insecurities, he'd let her help him instead of shutting her out.

"And leaped. Into bed."

"We talked, too. We're great, really." She had been a little concerned that she had taken things too fast, so suddenly. But once Finn had showed up, clearly pushing through his fears to be with her, the knot that had been inside her for so long had simply vanished, and her sheer need and love for him had poured out. Finn had also become far more sure of _them_ once she had explained how she felt, she could tell, and she was glad they'd taken the step fully before any of their doubts had re-emerged. "I know sex isn't a solution to problems. Other than our sexual frustration, of course." _And to being sure that he wants me and I want him._

"You certainly look happy. And he," Kurt gestured to the bathroom, where Finn was wrapping up his song, softer now that he had finished his shower, "he sounds happy."

"It was a _very_ good night." Rachel sobered. "We know we have a long way to go. But we're on our way, and we're both committed to it. I know he's not going to give me up again, and he knows he can work for the life he wants to have and that I'll support him through it. And seeing him know that, to see him fighting for it and to be with me - there's nothing like it, Kurt." She glanced over to the bathroom, where Finn was coming out wearing his shirt and a towel. She beamed. "Nothing."

* * *

Finn went back to Rachel's room and finished getting dressed, then passed her on her way into the bathroom, giving her a kiss, then letting her go get her own shower.

She'd left a plate for him on the counter, covered, and he found the bacon underneath. _That's my girl. _He felt Kurt's eyes on him, though, and stiffened.

"You don't need to look at me like that," he said, his back still turned.

"Like what?" Kurt asked, challenging. "You can't even see my face from there."

"I don't have to." But he turned to look at Kurt, and saw what he'd expected to see, the face of someone who wasn't sure whether what he was seeing was amazing or a trainwreck waiting to happen. "You don't need to worry, okay?"

"Last time you smashed her heart into smithereens and were going to throw your life away, just because you _panicked_. Your assessment of the things about which I need to worry is fundamentally flawed."

"_Was._" Finn corrected. "Was flawed." He looked intently at Kurt. "Okay, worry all you want, I can't say it's not deserved. But I get it, now. I actually get _us_, mostly. And yeah I still don't know what's gonna happen with my career, but my life? Is singing warm-ups in the shower because she doesn't have a song that's anywhere good enough for how she feels right now." Rachel's voice was soaring; she'd started with scales but now was clearly making it up as she went along, and he'd never heard her so obviously happy. He could feel it seeping into him. Tears pricked in his eyes, maybe they were partly hers too, happy tears. "And I did that, I did the right thing and she's happy and I'm happy and I get what we need from each other and -" he exhaled. "It's not really that explainable." _Just amazingly, mindblowingly **good**._

Kurt's expression eased, a smile starting. "You do both seem much happier than I've seen either of you since Nationals."

"Better," Finn corrected. "This is better. Better than all the other times. And it's way more real, it doesn't feel like it's just for now this time."

"Best ever?"

"Best so far." He still felt Rachel's voice, matching his exhilaration with hers. His career possibilities were still really tentative, the band was still fragile, but - since she could trust him to let him in again then he could trust her to be there for him while he struggled with that, and he'd get something worked out eventually. "There'll be more, don't know how but if I've learned one thing from my mistakes its to never underestimate what we've got. But not take it for granted either. Okay, that's two things. But they go together so it's one big thing."

Kurt chuckled. "I don't think your counting ability is all that relevant here."

Finn smiled back at him, glad to see Kurt had calmed down about the whole thing. The last thing they needed was for Kurt to think he needed to get in their way to protect them.

Kurt's phone rang, and he glanced at it quickly and answered it. "Good morning, to what do I owe this dubious honor?" His voice was teasing - someone he knew well, not Blaine though. "Spill?" he asked coyly. "Spill about what?" He looked up at Finn's curious face and mouthed 'Santana' as he listened.

_How the hell does she know already?_

"Details? Who says there's anything going on here for there to be details _of_?" Kurt went on, still clearly playing dumb for the amusement of it. Finn rolled his eyes and grabbed Kurt's phone from him.

"Are you checking up on me?" he asked.

"Forgive me for caring whether my roommate is still alive," Santana's voice responded drily. "It's also your night to cook, it'd be nice to know that you'll be back at some point to do it."

Finn snorted. "Yes, I will be back to cook tonight. Anything else?"

"Oh, nothing. Just, y'know, feel free to pay for takeout if you're too _worn out_ to cook. Or if you have something to _celebrate_, like maybe something good you wanted _finally happened_."

_Just **what** does she know? And how, did Rachel...?_ "Ah, yeah, see you later then." He passed Kurt's phone back to him and went to the bathroom door. The shower had stopped, as had her singing, so she should be able to hear him.

He knocked. "Hey Rach?"

"Yes?"

"Does Santana know something? About us?"

A giggle. "Well I did sort of let her know, but she did ask." She giggled again. "It's hard to explain, just take a look at our phone messages. I'll be out soon."

Bemused, Finn decided to simply follow instructions and went back to Rachel's room. He checked his own phone first, finding the message from Santana still popped up as it would have originally arrived. He reddened at the crudity of it, though it was typical Santana. At least her instinct had been correct, even though she was apparently startled at being right.

Now he took a look at Rachel's phone and checked her messages, since she had told him he should. None received that morning, but she'd sent one to Santana... and he flushed again, startled himself at the directness of Rachel's comment, clearly a reply to the one she'd seen Santana had sent him. Far from being offended at Santana's words, she'd been open, even proud of what they'd gotten up to.

Finn grinned. _Well there go the 'does she regret it at all' (no), 'are we going to keep doing this' (yes), and 'do we let people know' (also yes) questions. And her openness about it is so hot, almost like she's planting a flag on me or something. Which - hell yes Rach, raise the flag any time._

_Though sorry, San, no celebratory takeout tonight. Have to save my money._ Besides, treating your roommate to dinner as a celebration for reaching home plate with your girlfriend again sounded completely douchey, no matter how important the roommate's support for them both might have been.

* * *

Rachel rejoined them once she had dressed, and the three of them ate breakfast together, all easy. Finn and Rachel sat next to each other, their interaction filled with little nudges and glances that made Kurt's eyes roll, though they could tell he was happy for them.

After breakfast Rachel walked Finn to the door.

"It's so hard to leave but it feels like if I don't now I never will," Finn said, looking down at her, his eyes full.

"I want you to stay here forever too," Rachel said. "But we have our own things to work on, for now." She sighed, but it was a happy sigh. She stroked up his arms to put her hands around his neck. "I guess we're not the first couple to date and sleep together without living together."

"And here I thought we were so original," Finn murmured.

"We are. We're one of a kind, you and I." She paused. "I want to go to your gig," she stated. "I know you don't like it, but I love listening to you play, and I've never been able to come to your ones for the band, so..."

"Okay. There's just three shows left now, Thursday-Friday-Saturday."

"How about Saturday then, so afterwards you'll be done. We can coordinate by phone. I also need to get you some of that skin protector stuff before Thursday."

"Coffee sometime Tuesday?"

"Tuesday late morning works. If I can wait that long." They could talk about all this by phone and text too, but even unspoken they both knew they couldn't bring themselves to part without knowing when they would see each other again.

"Okay. I'll call you when I get home." Finn gave her a tender kiss, then turned and walked off down the hall. At the door to the stairs he paused and looked back, shooting her a half-smile when he saw she was still standing there watching him, then left.

* * *

_* "Open Arms", as performed by Journey, written by Steve Perry and Jonathan Cain._

* * *

_Please review!_


	24. Closer to the Heart

They talked more that night, about a lot of things, mostly just enjoying talking and having that ease with each other again. Finn told Rachel the full story of what he'd been doing with the latin gig and how it had run late, and she commiserated; in retrospect he could even find it funny. In her turn, she told him about how she'd become involved in James's acoustics project.

"Oh and James sent me a text, he wants to get in touch with you about something," she added. "I'll text you his number so you can call him."

"Uh, sure. Do you know what it's about?"

"Not really. I would guess his research, that's what he's focused on right now, but it could be something else. I told him a lot about you, and about your band, so it could be anything."

So Finn saved James's number, called him the next morning, and on Tuesday morning at ten arrived at the audio lab at NYADA where James had asked him to meet. He knocked, and James answered.

"Thank you for coming, Finn," the other man said, beckoning him in. "Come in, have a seat."

"Sure, no problem," Finn responded automatically, sitting down where James had gestured him to. He still didn't know what this was about, though, certainly something to do with Rachel but the man had said it was about the research project. Was there something going on after all, not from Rachel's side but for the man?

"So, I need your expert opinion on something," James stated, pressing a few keys on the sound board, selecting a music sample for playback.

"Not sure what I'm an expert in that you'd need," Finn replied, even more confused than before.

"Rachel tells me you've been involved for a few years, right? And you sang together?"

"Uh, yes," Finn answered tentatively. He cleared his throat, wanting to be more confident about it. After the other night, he didn't have any remaining doubts about her commitment to him, and if this James guy was interested in her Finn needed to make things clear. "Yes."

"Then you probably know her voice far better than anyone else could. I want you to listen to some samples from the project, and let me know if there's anything you can tell that can give me a reason to exclude any of them or classify them into groups."

Finn blinked. He wasn't expecting _that_. But it did make sense, if - "They're not consistent?"

"I didn't say that. Just listen. Close your eyes, it's better if you don't see the frequency analysis."

Finn nodded, deciding to just go with what he was being asked to do. He'd never been involved in any research, but even through his annoyance about the project he had listened to Rachel when she'd been talking about how honored she was that her voice was wanted for this, and how consistency was important. He wanted to help her, certainly, and the guy had been really good the other night about the whole costume thing. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

Rachel's voice washed over him, and he felt himself relax at the sound even as his heart thudded in response. Live was better, but even recorded he felt her voice touch him, and he let himself flow into it. But it was cut short after a few seconds.

"Sample A," James said, then another sample started, the same wordless vocalization. "Sample B." They proceeded like this for a few more, the same five second clip of Rachel's voice; while enjoying listening to her, Finn was also amazed by the consistency. Some of them didn't seem to be different at all, if these were separate recordings in different facilities. For others he had only a bit of a different impression.

Then the sixth sample played, and something changed. Not very much, and he couldn't actually say what was different about it, but it _felt_ different. Finn sat up, and James stopped playback. "Well?" he asked Finn.

"She's sad," Finn said, opening his eyes to look back at James. "Upset."

"You can tell?"

"Yeah. I can't tell you how, but I can feel it." And there being a sample like this - he knew which one it had to be.

"I couldn't, not even then, seeing her and talking to her."

"Was this almost two weeks ago? A Thursday?"

James hesitated, surprised. "Yes."

Finn nodded, frowning ruefully. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. We argued, she was spending time on this and our schedules were too different, it was stupid but it seemed like a big deal at the time."

"Ah. Well, at least I have a legitimate reason to exclude the sample and take another one." James looked at Finn, raising his eyebrows. "While I don't want to interfere with how you handle your relationship, it would be very good if, ah..."

"That didn't happen again?" Finn finished for him.

"Frankly, yes. Her throat was probably a little less open than usual, that would produce the difference I'm seeing. Her palate is so naturally relaxed that even that difference matters."

"Things are really good right now." Though Valentine's Day was still an issue; he needed to do something to make up for working that night. For both their sakes, he'd miss her too and it was going to suck having the occasion shoved in his face for the whole evening without her being there.

"Well I'm not going to tell you not to make her happy," James said. "Even if it means we have to redo the whole set." He shrugged. "That might be an entirely different research project on the voice, but it would never pass ethics approval." He saw Finn's puzzled look. "To manipulate someone's emotions and see how it affects the voice. There are legal limits to experimenting on people." He chuckled. "Research joke, sorry. We wouldn't do that to someone anyway, even though it would be interesting to know."

"Well I wouldn't help you with _that_."

"Of course not. Though," James said thoughtfully, "It could be interesting to get samples with you present versus without. Just as a matter of curiosity."

"To see if I affect her?"

"To see _how_ you affect her. It's clear from this sample that you do." James sighed. "I suppose that's to be expected," he said softly, "another reason why I couldn't use Sarah."

"Sarah?" Finn asked.

"Sorry, mostly talking to myself. My partner, Sarah. She's a singer, though not a stage singer, and I thought it was better to pick a test voice without bias. Rachel's voice has characteristics that make her a particularly good choice. I suppose it's good that I did, even without considering those features, because I might affect Sarah in ways that I wouldn't affect Rachel."

"You don't notice that?"

"Not myself, no. I might test samples, just to see, I suppose, now that I know, though again it's not something I'd want to 'experiment' on. Can you usually tell, with Rachel?"

Finn shrugged. "Yes, I think so. Mostly, anyway. I don't always know what it is or why, but I can feel a difference. Feel _her_, I guess. Not in recordings before, but they weren't as high-quality as this."

"Just her? Or can you tell with others, when they're not deliberately emoting?"

"Just Rachel," Finn answered. "But, y'know, she's _Rachel_. She expresses herself when she sings, it's what she does."

"Not when she knows she needs to be consistent, the same each time. And I couldn't tell, not to hear her. She couldn't tell those samples apart either."

"Huh." Finn was taken aback - was this basically proof of how special their connection was? This was a recording, she didn't feel the same now at all, but he'd still been able to tell how she felt from it when the person who'd been there with her hadn't known even then. "Wow. That's... amazing."

"Yes it is." James paused. "You thought there was something going on, didn't you?" he asked.

"I thought things might go that way," Finn admitted sheepishly. "We cleared it all up though, I know she wouldn't."

"I wouldn't either. Even if she was five years older and we were both unattached, she's working for me on this project. It would be unethical, especially since I'm her TA at NYADA, and it could bias the experiments. This is the last set of data I need for my thesis, I just want to get it done well."

"You never looked at her that way?"

"Not going to go there." James shook his head. "Okay, I'm not blind. But she also looks a bit like Sarah, superficially, though Sarah's taller, so..." he let it hang. "I see someone who sort-of looks like Sarah that isn't Sarah, like she's her kid sister or cousin or something."

Finn knew a little of what that felt like - Shelby Corcoran, Rachel's birth mother, looked a lot like her, which had made it impossible to treat the older woman as just another teacher or rival club's coach. He briefly wondered what this Sarah looked like, but dismissed the thought. There was only one Rachel. And apparently for her there was only one of him, too, one person who heard her like this and could get her to respond the same to him.

* * *

Finn's head was still full of all of that when he went in search of Rachel. They had arranged to meet at the cafe, but he knew she was just finishing her class up now and it seemed stupid to wait. Besides, all of that, feeling her through her voice and having it finally brought home to him how exceptional that was - he wanted to see her as soon as he could. Hearing Rachel sing always made him want to see Rachel, and more.

He spotted her coming out of a classroom, talking to Sean, and a moment later her face completely lit up as she saw him. He even thought he saw an extra spring in her step as she gave her friend a quiet word goodbye and walked over to him. Once she was close enough, he spoke.

"I love you."

He had said it to her hundreds of times, made sure he said it whenever he could these days, so she'd always know. But this time - it felt like the first time had, like it was something essential from deep inside him, something he knew he had to say or he'd burst.

Her eyes widened, sensing how profoundly he meant it. She took another step towards him, standing close. "I love you," she murmured in return. And waited as he nodded, making up his mind.

"Can we talk in private for a few minutes?" Usually it was bad to just say that and leave someone hanging, but Rachel seemed to understand that it wasn't anything like that.

"Of course." She led him into an empty rehearsal room and stood next to the piano, looking up at him.

"So James asked me to listen to the samples for his project," Finn said, as an opener.

"Oh," she responded, looking a little self-conscious. "And? How do I sound?"

"You sound great. You always do, of course. He... wanted to see if I could tell them apart. He said he couldn't."

She frowned slightly. "There's a strange sample, isn't there? That's why he had me listen to them on Saturday. I thought I was being so consistent."

"You were, really you were. Just - I can tell. You're you, and I'm me, and because of that I could tell which one it was. Even when it was from."

"You could?" She looked up at him, surprised, and he nodded. "That's good, isn't it?"

"James thinks so, he's happy he has a reason to redo the sample aside from his analysis. He says I'm an expert in your voice." He paused. "And he's right," he went on, softly. "I couldn't have better proof of it than that, I hear your voice, even a recording, and I feel you. How you were, then. I always reacted to it, but I never actually knew it, not to be sure. Or that it wasn't how everyone else hears you too."

"Wow."

"Yeah, it's kind of mindblowing. That we have that, that that's part of _us_."

"You could - _I_ couldn't even tell, Finn. Little differences, sometimes, but I couldn't tell which sample was which, or pick one out of the set that was more different. That you could - that's amazing."

"_We're_ amazing. Special. Us." He looked down at her, his eyes warm, his head lowered a little towards her.

"We so are." She closed the remaining distance to kiss him, a kiss he enthusiastically returned.

* * *

"Hey!"

The call came from behind Finn as he walked back through the hall to the entrance after seeing Rachel to her next class. He ignored it, sure that it couldn't be for him, but hurried steps behind him made him turn around. It was Alex Stepanopoulos, the composer-in-residence, who looked relieved to see Finn stopping.

"It's Finn, right? We met at that NYADA afterparty back in December."

"Uh, yes. Alex, right?" Finn shook the composer's loffered hand, relieved to have remembered the man's name while surprised that the guy had remembered his. And wanted to talk to him, apparently. _Might be about the band - he said something about listening to us at The Hand but we haven't played there since._

"Yes. Sorry for just flagging you down like this, do you have somewhere you have to be?"

"Uh, no. I was just walking Rachel back to class, we went for coffee."

"You're still together, huh. That's nice," Alex said, and although this was obviously just making conversation, to Finn it seemed so out of whack with reality. 'Cause "nice"? Not the word he would use for it. But the guy didn't know, of course, so even though Finn thought how happy he was should be visible from space, he let it go.

"Going strong," Finn replied, deciding to leave it at that. "So what's up? How's your composing going?"

"Pretty well," Alex answered, finishing the small-talk exchange. "So if you've got a minute, I've been wondering, what happened to your band? I was going to have another listen a couple of weeks ago but the bar has switched to trivia."

Finn shrugged. "January," he said, trying out the same matter-of-fact statement about entertainment's bleakest month that he'd heard from others.

"I suppose so," Alex grumbled.

"We've got a big show coming up on Valentine's Day, though. Then back on weekly gigs starting mid-March."

"That's a long drought."

"Tell me about it. But there just isn't the business, or so the others tell me. Things should pick up again." Finn tried to sound confident, like he actually knew what was going on. "Was there something you wanted to hear? Why you were looking for us?"

"Just that style and era of music in general, to bring out my feel for it and get ideas going," Alex answered. "Live music is always better, especially when I'm working on something to be played live. You don't get the same energy from a recording." He frowned. "So, Valentine's Day, huh? That's bad timing, it's not really a night I can spend essentially working. And trust me, if I take my wife out and start making composition notes, she will notice."

"Well, I could talk to the others, see if you can come to practice sometime," Finn offered. "We do it at my place out in Brooklyn because of the drums, so they might be okay with it."

Alex looked surprised at this offer, pleasantly so. "That sounds great, actually. Thanks." He paused. "But I understand if they're not, some musicians hate to be watched practicing. Here's my card, let me know."

"Sure."

* * *

Saturday night Rachel came out to see the latin show, on Finn's last night filling in.

She wished she could say she was impressed. But business seemed to be good, somehow, and the others involved were skilled. She could tell they had abilities far beyond what they were being called on to do, but she reasoned that perhaps something more difficult or more authentic might challenge the patrons too much. Certainly the people attending the show would have had options, this must be what they wanted.

Mario had not warmed to the idea of having her take up a table, even as a paying customer, but he had been okay with her watching from backstage. She was happy to help some of the dancers with their costume changes, and in between those she watched Finn.

He did look pretty dreadful. It wasn't a look he could really carry off, she decided, and even the others had trouble. She was glad he had done it, however, since what had happened last week had proven to her how serious he was about staying and about her. Indeed, while in general she preferred that he not keep things from her, she was glad in retrospect that he hadn't told her about this gig. It proved that he wasn't merely trying to show her his seriousness about taking every opportunity in New York, but instead that he simply _was_ serious about it, and his determination warmed her heart.

However, she knew Finn cared about his dignity, and she had a responsibility to safeguard that if she could. She was happy to see that he relaxed into his playing and seemed to have developed a musical rapport with the other members of the band, within the limitations of what they could do while playing in the background. And while the shirt definitely did not suit him at all, it was partly obscured by the drums, and when it wasn't she could appreciate the view of his chest that the low V gave her. She'd get a much closer opportunity for that later, along with a much more personal experience of how he used his hands, or at least so she intended.

Rachel blushed at her own thoughts. Her feelings had certainly become unblocked, her worry gone; along with that had gone any form of self-restraint, apparently. And it had been a week since their blissful night, they had both been too busy to get together privately in the meantime. Their Tuesday coffee date and the confirmation of their special bond had strengthened her confidence that he was hers, and subsequent late-night phone calls and murmured endearments had only honed her desire. No aspect of the costume could get in the way of that.

* * *

When the show finished, Finn was relieved to finally be done, and he went straight from the stage to the front desk. He got his pay from Mario and counted it twice the way that the others had advised him to, they liked that he paid cash but said there were sometimes problems. The full amount was there, so he shook Mario's hand firmly and went backstage to change.

Rachel beamed to see him approach, and jumped up from the stool where she had been sitting.

"So what did you think?" he asked sheepishly.

"Everyone was woefully underutilized, but the audience seemed to be happy," she answered. "Are you going to leave the makeup on?"

"Should I?" He had a pretty good idea where she was going with this.

"At least most of it, you need help to get thoroughly clean." She leaned up to his ear. "After last week I'm looking forward to being able to finish the job properly," she whispered, and there was no doubt about what she meant by that.

Finn grinned, his body reacting to the suggestion and the memory, of her hands on him and so much more. "If that was it unfinished I want to know what else there is," he murmured back. "We could head back to my place."

"My place," she insisted. "I'm sure you don't want to risk Santana seeing you like this."

"I don't want to risk Kurt seeing me like this either."

"Santana is more likely to take pictures and post them online than Kurt is."

Finn blinked. "Your place it is." He quickly pulled the costume shirt off, replacing it with the old tee he'd brought along to change into, then pulled off the fake moustache. At least now he looked less like a bit player in really bad porn. He rubbed his hand over his face to vaguely even out the caked tan cream, said goodbye to the men he'd been playing with, and was ready to go.

Traffic was slow, though possibly a little better than usual. They talked a little as Finn drove, Rachel complimenting him on his playing while acknowledging that it didn't stretch his abilities at all.

"Most of the band's capable of a lot better," Finn said. "Some of them do other things too, but it's a shame they're stuck doing that."

"It's good that you got to know them. I talked with some of the dancers backstage, they seem very nice."

"They are, mostly."

A few minutes later he spoke again. "You're sure about your place? It's a lot further."

"It's what I was planning," she answered. "I have some of the remover with me, but it's easier for you to stay over than it is for me, and you know how Santana's likely to react to seeing you like this. Especially given her background, she might even find it offensive."

Finn sighed. "And she'd mock me. I know."

"And I've got some scentless moisturizer for after we get the makeup off."

"Not my thing," he replied. "Sorry."

"Finn, it's simply something to replace the natural oils your skin will have lost. Three days of heavy makeup will have taken their toll, especially in winter since the air is so dry."

"If I start with that Kurt will be on me to continue. I'll manage." He flashed her a smile to take the edge off what he was saying. "Thank you, but I'll be fine."

"Finn..." Rachel pursed her lips and thought for a bit. "Do you really think Kurt will notice? It's not like _he's_ going to be feeling your skin."

"Scentless or not, Kurt can probably detect that stuff fifty feet away."

"Finn." Her voice was firm, though the look she shot him was flirtatious. "I am quite sure that, if I take you home, and into my room, and strip you down," she continued, her voice getting slower and heavier with desire, "and rub my hands over you, Kurt will be far too occupied with avoiding getting any impression of our activities to notice _what_ I'm rubbing on you."

Finn gulped. "Uh... when you put it like that..." he wrenched his attention back to the road. "Though could you please not talk like that while I'm driving, we have to get there first."

"Of course."

They drove on for a while in silence, slowly making progress in the ubiquitous New York traffic.

"Hold on," Finn said, his brain having reasserted itself. "Kurt's going to be right there? In the apartment the whole time?" _And we're just going to walk right past him and start...?_

"He lives there. But so do I, and we can't let his being there stop us."

"I guess." Not that they had much choice, Santana would be at his place, and at least Kurt was less likely to offer play-by-play commentary.

"By the time we get there he'll probably be watching something or in his room. It'll be fine, we can't let it bother us."

Finn hoped she would be right. It would be a shame if even now that they'd moved out from living with parents, they had to sneak around because of roommates.

* * *

As they entered the apartment, Kurt was in the living room reading a magazine. "Oh good, about time you got here, I'm starving," he said, looking up.

"Kurt..." Rachel frowned at this reaction from him. "I thought you would have had dinner long ago."

"Well you said something about coming back here and Finn needing to eat after the show, so I thought I'd wait." Kurt looked at Finn, who was trying to let Rachel handle this, since it was her place and her plan. "Though he looks dreadful, I can't see why they would want such horrible makeup at all, much less why you would leave it on."

"We're going to get it off here," Rachel said, giving Kurt a meaningful please-just-drop-this look. "And we're going to eat after that. Possibly quite a bit after that."

"You're... oh, I see," Kurt said, his face going into a pout. "The makeup isn't all you're planning to _get off_."

Finn caught the double entendre - not that it was much of one - and decided to step in. "Look, I'm sorry you waited, but you really should go ahead and eat. Maybe go out." _Offering him money to do that with would be tacky, right? Yes. Very tacky._

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll just have what I would have had before, I suppose," he grumbled. "I'll try to pretend you're not here."

"Kurt..." Rachel gave him a pleading look. "I'm sorry you got the wrong idea, and we don't want to disturb you, but..." She kept looking at Kurt until he seemed to relax a bit, then she excused herself and went to her room. She would have last seen Kurt only a few hours ago, so presumably this was about Finn's attention this time, or just that Kurt didn't want to be aware of these things happening in the apartment. Finn had dealt with this before, back when he was the one living with Kurt and Rachel was the one coming over.

"I hope you're okay with me staying over," Finn said to his stepbrother. "We can do breakfast again."

Kurt shrugged, still annoyed. "Maybe I shouldn't have assumed, but you could at least not make it so I'm an outcast in my own apartment. I don't know how I'm going to be able to ignore all this."

"Hey, ditch the guilt trip, Kurt, please," Finn protested. He owed Kurt a lot, they both did, but at this point they really needed him to let them get on with what they wanted to do together. "Have I ever cockblocked you? Or... Blaine, or, uh..." Finn really didn't want to get into which of the two was the one that would be blocked that way, some things were better not known or even thought about. He grimaced, trying to scrub the question from his brain.

Kurt shook his head, exasperation and amusement warring on his face. "Well from that expression I think you have a taste of how uncomfortable I am with this," he said. "I suppose that makes me feel a little bit better about these things, but even so." He exhaled. "I have got to talk to Santana so we can work out some kind of schedule," he muttered, "now that sightings of the _Paramythia montium_* are to be frequent. I refuse to suffer alone."

"The what?" Finn had caught the mention of Santana and a schedule, but he was distracted by Kurt's weird reference.

"I'm not explaining the joke."

"If nobody gets what you said, it's not really a joke."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine. In any case, as Rachel's roommate I will talk to your roommate, and hopefully we can come up with some shared lack of custody arrangements so that neither of us has to suffer too much." He managed a small smile. "I am happy for the two of you, you know I am, I'm glad that things are going so well. I just don't want to think about the details and I certainly don't want to hear them, or even worse see any evidence."

"Well I don't want you to either, so I think we're good." As long as he ignored the fact that Kurt had basically said that he and Santana were going to work out when and where Finn and Rachel could have sex, or at least which apartment would be vacant at various times for them to do it. Of course nothing could make them follow it, and it might be helpful to have arranged privacy, but it was still very uncomfortable to think of either of their roommates nosing into something so personal and private. _Nosing into... or butting into... or, shit, there just aren't any good words for it. Anyway, they should keep out. _They knew it was happening, that should be enough, and noise-cancelling headphones were invented for a reason.

_Though speaking of sex with Rachel..._ She was waiting for him, so he nodded vaguely to Kurt and went to Rachel's room. However, Finn was tense; the thought of having sex while Kurt was in the next room, knowing what they were up to... well, they'd done it before, but never that deliberately. Maybe they'd have to call it off for tonight if that was how it was going to be. It would be easier to not think about it in the morning. _Nice cockblock, bro. Damn._

Except then Finn entered Rachel's room, and saw her standing there waiting for him, having stripped down to a spaghetti-strap bodysuit that left very little to the imagination, and... all thoughts of where anyone else was, or indeed thoughts at all, left his brain along with most of its blood. She stepped up to him and pulled his head down for a devastating kiss, her lips tugging at his in the way that had always driven him crazy, her hand starting to massage the back of his neck. _God, Rach, that feels so good..._

"Make sure you use moisturizer," Kurt called out from behind him.

_Oh yeah, Kurt's here._ Somehow this now barely seemed real, not with Rachel warm in his arms, her hands pulling his shirt up and promises of so much more to follow.

Rachel broke away and went to the door. "If you don't want to know the details, don't make suggestions," she told Kurt. "I got you that fashion podcast subscription for a reason." She closed the door firmly, turned back to Finn, and -

It was quite a while before Finn could form a coherent thought again, overwhelmed by want and pleasure and _Rachel_. This much was clear: neither of them needed any suggestions.

* * *

_* Paramythia montium is a species of bird native to New Guinea, known as the Crested Berrypecker._

* * *

_Please review!  
_


	25. Progression

The rest of _Dance Hall Daze_ were okay with having a hopefully appreciative and interested observer come to their practice, even intrigued at getting to make a connection with a professional songwriter. So on Monday afternoon after setup, Finn welcomed Alex Stepanopoulos into the apartment and introduced him to the others.

"I've heard you a couple of times before," Alex said as he settled down in a chair, facing the band. "Thank you for letting me listen; otherwise pretend that I'm not here."

"You do know that some of this stuff is still a little rough, right?" Daryl said. "We've still got a lot of practice time left before the gig, and we expanded our repertoire for it."

"All the better for me to hear it," Alex replied. "Not that it's rough, but that it's new. And I'm used to hearing things in the rough, and knowing what they'll be like when they're done; that's part of what I do." He chuckled. "Just don't get concerned if I start taking notes, they won't be about you, I have to write down my ideas whenever I get them."

"Okay." They deliberately turned away from him and started with the pieces they had decided to work on that day, some big ensemble numbers that were critical and a few spotlight pieces that were giving them difficulty.

Finn by this time had happily knocked off "Spellbound", but was having trouble with his first-set ballad, "When I'm With You." Maintaining good sustained vocal tone was difficult while drumming, especially with the high pitch of the song. Being seated didn't help, either, since he couldn't support his voice as well as he would standing.

"I don't know, guys, I've sung higher before, just... I'm not feeling it right, or something," Finn offered by way of apology. "It's there but it's not flowing."

"Maybe you're not quite connecting with it right," Scott offered.

"Don't sweat it, it'll come with more practice," Daryl put in. "I've had trouble with singing while playing myself, once I get the playing automatic the singing becomes easier too."

"I hope so," Finn answered. There was just so much to concentrate on, and the whole thing turned into pieces instead of an entire song, at least once the drumming heated up. "It's hard to feel it when I'm trying to do so much at once." As he usually did for love songs, he tried to imagine Rachel there as audience, but his attention was being pulled in too many ways for that to work.

"Maybe you need someone to sing it to," Irene suggested, apparently on the same idea. "See if Rachel can come."

"More guests?" Scott grumbled. "Though if it would help, okay."

Finn would certainly like Rachel to come, he wanted her to hear him, but - "if she helps now, then what?" he said. "It's not like I can sing it to her at the show."

"Just to help you figure out how to do it," Irene said. "Though I'm surprised you're not jumping at the chance to have her here."

Finn smiled sheepishly. "Overcompensating." Though Rachel was really busy too, and he did want to do his own thing and be a success. Still, this would be minor, he hoped. "I'll ask her."

"Cool," Daryl said. "Then let's move on."

Next was "The Power of Love", the Huey Lewis song; it was high-energy and good for all of them, and it was at the fine-tuning stages. Finn still had his doubts about the transition from the ballad, it seemed like they hadn't slowed things down for long enough, but they already knew his thoughts on that so he kept them to himself this time. And it was a good piece for Alex to hear, he figured, very typical of the era.

They continued, going over a few more troubled spotlight numbers. In particular Scott was hesitant about his singing on the Cars song, though Finn thought he sounded fine. They also put a lot of work into the set-enders and encore finale.

"They're great but could always be better," Finn pushed when the others were disinclined to go through some of them again. "We'll be tired, but we have to be able to end big anyway, so we have to be into them enough so that we get energy from them instead of needing it."

"Okay, champ, we know," Scott answered. "Count us in."

Eventually they were done for the day. Alex hung back as the others left.

"Thank you again for having me here," Alex said, putting his notes away. "I've had a few ideas that I think have promise and a lot more that might, there's nothing like something like this to stimulate my brain."

"Live music, huh?"

"It usually does it for me, but these days most bands are playing a different style, one not so helpful currently. It's interesting to see the band dynamic in rehearsal, as well; it's quite different from the average show or orchestra rehearsal, more collaborative, nobody in charge."

Finn was privately glad that the worse sides of the band's "dynamic" hadn't been in evidence, they were all pulling together now. "It's a good group," he commented.

"Do you all do other work? Without the band, I mean. Freelance, most musicians do."

"Yeah, sure. Scott and I do, anyway. Daryl and Irene don't do as much."

"Well it is the rhythm section I am most interested in. That's why I lingered, I don't want to cause any trouble between you."

"They know we do other stuff, it's not a problem."

"That's good." Alex paused, Finn waiting to see if he was going anywhere with this. It was intriguing, whatever it was. "I was wondering if you might be open to a little job opportunity," Alex said. "You and your bassist, Scott." Finn motioned the guy to sit down, sitting in the other chair himself. Alex went on. "For the music I'm working on now, since it's meant to be played with a band, it's difficult to get good feedback of what it would sound like together," he explained. "I can play the lead parts, no problem, and I could certainly record versions of all of the parts for playback, but it lacks the energy of live music. So I need a rhythm section."

"To play the stuff - the music you write?" _Wouldn't there be real musicians for that?_

"To test out things that I'm composing, yes. I've had some trouble getting the underpinnings of the songs worked out, sometimes, and having musicians used to playing that type of music would be a big help. And get some feedback, at my request, of course they would still be entirely my compositions."

"Of course," Finn echoed, using the phrase to bluff while his brain scrambled to think about what was being offered. So the guy wanted someone to play his music, basically, not really like jamming but more like needing to test it out. Maybe while he got more ideas, like today, or he needed to hear it to really get a feel for what was working and what didn't. He could relate to that.

"So would you be interested? There's a standard rate of pay for rehearsal, I would go better than that since this wouldn't be tied to a performance."

"I'm sure we can work out something," Finn said, knowing that he needed to give some response, at least to show he was interested. And it sounded good, he knew Scott had been looking for more work too and they played well together. Plus this guy seemed cool, hopefully okay to work for. "After the fourteenth, though. We're full-out on preparing for this gig between now and then."

"Of course. I wouldn't want to disrupt the band you've got for something likely short-term. You're certainly putting considerable effort into your work here."

"I want to be really well prepared, this show is a big deal for the band," Finn explained. "It's longer than we've ever done. And it's extra tough for me," he admitted, "getting ready for a Valentine's show, since Rachel can't come to the gig."

"She can't?" Alex was initially surprised, but the penny soon dropped. "Oh. Yes, I suppose that's an issue, the bar. Still, you have to be professional, and you would have known about it when you got together."

"When we... _what_?" That didn't make sense.

"I don't mean to interfere, of course. But certainly you must have known that this time last year, Rachel was still in high school. That's simply the situation you have."

Finn couldn't stop himself from snorting at this statement; clearly gossip about them at NYADA hadn't gotten as far as Alex, since he still thought Finn was older. At Alex's quizzical look, he couldn't hold it in any longer, and threw back his head and laughed. Maybe that wasn't professional, okay of course it wasn't, but it was too funny for him to hold back, especially with the way Alex had put it.

Alex raised an eyebrow, looking disconcerted, and waited. Finally Finn's laughter subsided. "Was I being funny? It wasn't intentional, I assure you."

"I know," Finn said, still chuckling. He didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't help himself. "Just - of course I know Rachel was in high school this time last year. I was _there_." He paused, but saw it still hadn't registered on the older man. "I was in high school then too. I've known Rachel for three-and-a-half years."

"You -" Alex stared, then looked Finn over. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen. How old did you think I was?" Hopefully this wouldn't be an issue for the work.

"The same as the others, I suppose, maybe twenty-four or twenty-three." Alex snorted at his own error, and Finn was glad to see that he found it funny too. "How long have you been with the band?"

"Just since October. They had a previous drummer who quit."

"Well you fit right in." Alex shook his head at himself, chuckling. "So that's why you don't drink in bars."

"I don't get in the door unless I'm playing, and I have to promise to respect their license. It's weird, but I don't have time to hang out there anyway, it just sucks that we keep playing wet-only gigs because it means Rachel can't come." He sighed. "Still, it is what it is."

"Well I have to say I had no idea you were so young yourself."

"Guess I look older, maybe my height or something."

"That and your attitude. You certainly act like you know what you're doing. Though from what I've heard, so does she."

_The difference is, Rachel does know what she's doing,_ Finn thought. _Still, this guy would have seen a lot of others, maybe there is something right about how I'm going about this._ The band had listened to him when he'd pushed, mostly; maybe that was because he was right or at least going about it the right way. "Just trying to get things to work." And if he acted all serious and professional about it, well, he'd had a good role model for that in Rachel. She had always acted sort of "mini-adult".

"That sounds good. So, talk to your bassist and we'll set something up for after your gig, all right?"

"Yes, definitely. Thanks for coming."

"Thank you for having me."

* * *

Finn called Rachel that night, telling her about Alex's visit and this new offer. Her reaction was extremely enthusiastic, even for her, though privately he thought she was reading too much into it, he had to be more cautious about getting his hopes up. But it was a great opportunity, and it was even right at NYADA so maybe he would get to see her more. He'd already talked to Scott, who was thrilled.

Rachel's Wednesday afternoons ended at four, so although she couldn't stay late due to her class early Thursday morning, she was happy to come out and be there for him to sing to. "I look forward to being serenaded," she said, and he could hear her beaming smile in her voice.

"I should do that anyway. And I hope Irene's right and I won't suck when I sing it for you."

"I've never heard you suck, I don't think you can. And before you claim that I'm biased, let me insist that I would not have been won over by a sucky serenade in the first place."

"If you say so."

"I do."

So a little after five on Wednesday Rachel arrived, and they finished the song they were working on to give Finn a chance to try his ballad again.

Unlike Alex, Rachel was definitely audience, sitting front and center with her eyes intent on Finn. He looked back at her, then down at his drums, hearing the keyboard intro swell; as Daryl started on acoustic, Finn started to sing: (*)

_I never needed love like I need you_  
_And I never lived for nobody, but I live for you_  
_Oooh, babe, lost in love is what I feel when I'm with you_

Finn's voice rose, feeling more comfortable with the song, the pitch somehow easier to manage.

_Maybe it's the way you touch me with the warmth of a sun_  
_Maybe it's the way you smile, I come all undone_  
_Oooh, babe, lost in love is what I feel when I'm with you_

He'd felt the truth in the words before, but with her there they meant so much more. Daryl switched guitars, getting the electric going. Finn felt his energy flowing faster, and started to drum.

_Baby, oh I get chills when I'm with you_  
_Baby, my world stands still when I'm with you_  
_When I'm with you_

He stole a glance at Rachel, buoyed by the look of rapture on her face. She was feeling this all right, feeling him as he sang. And this was easier, so much easier; Daryl had it backwards, it was the singing part that was automatic now. Singing to Rachel was as natural as breathing.

_I never cared for nobody like I care for you_  
_And I never wanted to share the things I want to share with you_  
_Oooh, babe, lost in love is what I feel when I'm with you_

_Baby, oh I get chills when I'm with you_  
_Baby, my world stands still when I'm with you_  
_When I'm with you_

Slow singing while drumming, notes held steady despite his movement. It all felt right.

_Baby, oh I get chills when I'm with you_  
_Baby, my world stands still when I'm with you_  
_When I'm with you_  
_When I'm with you_  
_When I'm with you..._

Finn held the high note, admittedly lower than in the original, his eyes closed. Once he faded it out, he opened them to look straight at Rachel. Her mouth was agape, her heart in her eyes.

"That was beautiful, Finn. Truly, there are no words." She stood, and he got up from the drums and walked over to her.

"Good thing we don't always need them," he said softly.

She leaned up to give him a light kiss. "I feel properly serenaded, thank you."

"That's a buck right there," Scott commented, referring to the band's PDA fines. "You kiss, you pay."

"It's my place," Finn protested, annoyed at the disturbance of their moment. Though they did need to get back to band practice.

"Doesn't matter, we haven't finished practice yet," Daryl insisted. "We pay too when we're at our place for a band meeting, as long as the meeting's still on."

"Fine," Finn muttered, and dug a dollar out.

"Exactly," Scott said, accepting the money with a smirk. Finn rolled his eyes, but relaxed, accepting the interference. They really did have to practice.

Rachel looked on, bemused. "What can I get for five?" she asked.

Finn blinked at this, but was amused by her offer. "Get?" he said, pretending to be offended. "I'm not some sort of lips for hire, you know. My kissing booth days are over." The others chortled at this, but he ignored them.

"Oh, I know," Rachel answered, licking her lips and looking flirtatiously up at him. "For five I'd want more."

"Stop winding your boy up, he'll go broke," Scott said as Finn reddened. "And we have three songs left to work on."

Rachel groaned. "I wish I could stay," she told Finn. "I can listen a little longer, but I'll have to leave around six."

"It's okay. I'm glad you made it, and the song did feel a lot better. Hopefully I know how to do it now." He gave her a guilty look, pulling her aside. "I'm sorry to get you to come all the way out here just for that."

"Don't be sorry, I would travel a lot farther to hear you sing to me," Rachel answered. "And I honed a lot of my skills singing to you. We're a team."

"We are." He squeezed her arm and gave her a smile, then went back to his drums. Rachel sat down again.

"Do you guys ever record any of this?" she asked before they could move on. She looked serious.

Finn exchanged glances with the others, who seemed to want him to deal with this. Probably figuring (rightly) that he'd be pissed if any of them were rude to Rachel, especially now. "I don't think there's much of a market for that, Rach," he told her. "Not for covers, even with our regulars."

"Don't sell yourself short," she answered. "Though I was thinking more for PR. Well," she continued, blushing a little, "I was thinking mostly that I wanted a copy of that one myself, but every performer needs a demo reel."

When she put it like that, it made sense. Finn looked at the others again.

"It could help us get more wedding gigs," Irene said. "We did a couple last summer, but if we could get this show recorded it would give good examples to anyone who's interested."

With Irene sold, it didn't take much for Daryl to nod. "I'll talk to Adam Smith, see if we can," he said, using his name for the manager of _The Invisible Hand_. "Thanks for the suggestion."

Rachel was clearly delighted to be listened to, and she settled back into her chair while the band got back to work.

* * *

Six o'clock came, and the band took a brief break. Finn took Rachel's hand and led her into his room. "There's no way my bedroom is public," he called back to the others. The anti-PDA thing was more to keep a handle on Daryl and Irene during setup; he wasn't going to let it stop him from giving Rachel a proper goodbye. They were so busy leading up to the gig, he had no idea if he'd see her again before their Valentine's date the weekend after it, and that was ten days away.

"He's got you there, Scott," Daryl commented.

The door closed, and Finn pulled Rachel up for a deep kiss. When they finished she was breathless.

"Ooh, that was easily worth five," she gasped. "Call me tonight, okay?"

"Count on it." He escorted her to the apartment door, ignoring the reactions of his bandmates.

* * *

The week passed. At Daryl's suggestion, Finn moved his drums over to Daryl and Irene's place on Staten, much to the relief of Finn's neighbors; the band was practicing all they could. Between that and his shifts at the diner, Finn was barely at home for long enough to sleep and occasionally do his part on the cleaning and cooking duties around the apartment.

The setlist had been expanded slightly. When he arrived with his drums on Thursday, Finn saw a small "x2" scribbled next to "The Power of Love". He asked Daryl about it, curious. Surely they weren't going to sing something twice in a row, that made no sense.

"It's the other one, the power ballad," Daryl explained. "Like you said, that spot needs another one, and Irene's been practicing." He chuckled. "We can make something of the name being the same, I'll do a talk bit between them. That's what brought the song to mind." He looked at Finn, who was still startled by it. "Is that okay? The drums are pretty basic, but you'll need to practice them enough since it's right after one of your big numbers."

Finn thought about it, and though it was a surprise since he'd thought the setlist was fixed, the way Daryl described it seemed just fine. They did need that number there. Except for one thing.

"Um, okay, I guess, but -" he leaned forward, his voice lowered. "Are you sure she's up to it? Nothing against Irene, she sings great, but it's a real power number and I've never heard her do anything like that before."

"I don't think it's going to be a problem. We'll know ahead of time if it is and we can take it out easily, since it's an addition."

Finn shrugged. "Okay then."

* * *

By Tuesday Rachel was restless. Edgy. She talked to Finn every night on the phone, and they sang a little to each other, mindful of what they knew now was an important part of their bond, but it wasn't enough. She stayed late in the dance studio, doing her best to work herself into exhaustion, but she had to stop before she became clumsy enough to risk injury. She arrived home mid-evening.

Kurt was there, and she ate as they caught up on some overdue tv-watching, but her mind wasn't on it. Rachel missed her man. She knew Finn was extremely busy, and she was so proud of what he was doing, the band had never done anything so big and she knew he was instrumental in that no matter how much he downplayed it, but still, she missed him. She squirmed a little in her place on the couch, wishing he was there. To hear his voice for real, to see his smile and the warmth of his eyes, to smell the scent of his skin and hair, taste his mouth, feel him under her fingertips and have his deft strong hands roam her body...

She snapped back to reality to find Kurt staring at her. "Ah, what was that again?" she asked.

"I asked you what you thought of the new love interest. Frankly I find him contrived, it's obviously just to generate tension."

"I, um... yes." She had no idea what Kurt was talking about, she'd even forgotten what show they had been watching, but agreeing with Kurt about things like that usually wasn't a problem. His instincts for good tv were unerring. The tv was off now, the show over, whatever it had been. "Anything to get viewers even more obsessed." She flashed Kurt a smile, and he seemed to be fooled by her bluff; their exchange could apply to any number of different current series.

"Well I'm going to turn in, they want me there at eight tomorrow and the coffee line is even worse that early. You?"

"I... I think I'm going to go out, actually," Rachel answered. "I'm feeling a little restless. I'll text you if something comes up, but don't worry, get your sleep."

"Okay."

Rachel went to her room and threw a few things into a bag, then left.

She called Finn on her way to the subway; no answer. She left a voice message, hoping he'd get it soon.

* * *

When she eventually exited the subway, she found she had a message in return from Finn, timestamped twenty minutes before. He said he was sorry he'd missed her call, that he had just gotten home. "So, tag, I guess," he finished up. "Call me back when you can, if you're not asleep yet. I love you."

She was relieved when he answered her call on the second ring. "Hi baby, I'm sorry I missed your call," she said sweetly. "I was on the subway."

"Oh, you went out?"

"Yes." She reached an intersection and stopped, not wanting to cross while she was distracted talking. "I miss you. How was rehearsal?"

"It was great, everything's really come together. I'm still a little worried about that power ballad of Irene's, but the others all swear there won't be any problems, so I trust them. She's holding back, I guess, saving her voice or something."

"That's good. I know you're going to kill it on Thursday."

"Thanks." He sighed. "I miss you too, so much, God this has been the busiest I've been since the week before Nationals. It's going to be worth it though. And we will have an amazing weekend, I promise."

"I can't wait." And she meant that literally. "I'm sorry but I have to go do something right now, I'll talk to you again in a few minutes okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm still unwinding. Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

A few minutes later, having sent a quick text to Kurt, Rachel exited the stairwell, walked down the hall, and knocked.

"Hold on," she heard his voice, and in a few seconds the door opened.

Finn stood there looking down at her, startled and looking a bit disheveled, as if he had just removed his shirt and had to throw it back on to answer the door. She gave him a big smile. "Hello there," she said.

His cheeks dimpled, his own grin spreading. "Hello there yourself. I'm not dreaming right? 'Cause I was just wishing you were here, and here you are."

"No, it's really me." She paused. "Can I come in?"

"Oh." Finn belatedly realized he was standing in the doorway, and moved back. "Yes, of course. Sorry."

"Don't be." Rachel entered, giving Finn a quick kiss, and put down the bag she was carrying. It caught Finn's attention, and he looked at it for a moment, then back to her.

"So when you said you had to 'go _do_ something'..."

"I meant you." She gave him a very intimate look, and her voice was sultry. "I've r_eally_ missed you."

"And you say I'm awake..." Finn paused. "So is this a _booty call_?" he asked, clearly trying to look innocent and failing.

Rachel bristled at that term, it sounded so demeaning. However... _I packed an overnight bag and traveled for an hour on the subway for the express purpose of visiting my boyfriend,_ she told herself. _Visiting. When I know he's tired and going to bed. Face it, I'm here to have him screw my brains out because I miss him._ She'd appreciated Finn's willingness to be publicly humiliated for her sake, she could put up with demeaning terminology for his. Especially since she had to admit it was accurate, at least within the context of an established relationship. She nodded her head and gave her reply in her most matter-of-fact tone. "Yes."

He looked incredulous, then slowly started to grin again. "Yes?"

"Yes this is a booty call. As I understand the term."

Finn chuckled. "Which is?"

"Clearly there is insufficient time for us to have more of a date, considering how busy we both are and especially all of the work you're putting into preparing for your show. However, it would be a mistake for us to simply let our physical relationship languish and its needs remain unmet when we do still have enough time to see to them. Once we are past this point, having this as well as our other dates will also enable us to keep the alone time and intimacy we need while still being more sociable."

Finn's chuckles had now developed into a full-blown laugh, and she fixed him with a stare.

"Sorry," he said as he calmed down. "It's just one of the weirdest hot things ever, you giving completely logical reasons for why you showed up at my door for a booty call." He shook his head, still chuckling. "It's new but it's still so _you_."

"I'm not wrong." She didn't want their relationship to devolve into something merely sexual, but they certainly needed to include it, however they could.

"I never said you were."

"But of course it's all built on the fact that I need you and love you and miss you."

He dimpled. "Same here. C'mere," he beckoned, and once she stepped into his arms he gave her a tender kiss. "I am very glad you came."

"That's up to you." She gave him a wink.

Finn flushed. "I'm not used to this side of you yet," he said, trying to explain away his reaction. "You talking like that, I like it, but it's new."

"A lot of theater jokes are rather off-color, and there's a lot of innuendo. I've adjusted a little." She kissed him again. "And I like talking to you like this, it's fun and makes me feel sort of sexy."

"You are way more than 'sort of' sexy, babe." Rachel preened at Finn's compliment, then he yawned. "So I guess I'd better get on that and give you what you came for. What you're here for." He picked her bag up and led her to his room.

Rachel paused, hanging back. "You know I appreciate you for a lot more than that," she said, not wanting him to think she was only after his body. "I love you so very much, Finn."

He turned to give her an encouraging smile. "I know. And I love you too, more than anything. And," he said as he closed his door behind them, "I also love being close to you and how much you want me, so..." Their mouths melded, followed shortly by their bodies.

After, as they lay holding each other close, he whispered in her ear: "Thank you for coming."

She giggled softly. "You too."

A few minutes later Finn went to clean up, and they both re-dressed themelves for sleep, Rachel in the old t-shirt of Finn's that she favored. Finn slid back into bed and wrapped himself around her.

"This is a really great idea," he murmured. "Can I do it too?"

"Show up at my door to spend the night?"

"Yeah."

"Just as long as you accept that nothing might happen, like I did."

Finn snorted. "What, you thought I might say 'no'? Yeah right, like that would happen."

Rachel yawned. "I accepted that it might. You might be too tired, or not feel like it. You might even have stayed over at Daryl and Irene's, since you're going back there tomorrow anyway."

"No, I wouldn't have slept well there." He chuckled. "Nowhere _near_ as well, it turns out." His voice was quiet, sleepy; both were slowing down. "But yeah, I can accept that you might be too tired or whatever. As long as I can still stay."

"I might not be able to do certain things sometimes, you know."

"What?" But it only took a second for him to figure it out. "Oh yeah, that. It's not going to show up on the weekend, is it?"

"No, it ended a week and a half ago. Between weekends."

"Lucky us."

"Very lucky."

"But yeah, okay, I can accept that you might be tired, or unable, or just not into it. And I wouldn't, if you had a big performance coming up."

"Why not?" Rachel was puzzled. "You wouldn't tire me out _that_ much."

"I know you wouldn't want anything to go wrong, like how I couldn't kiss you for the week before your NYADA audition."

Rachel hated the reminder of that, and even worse to know how well he remembered it. "Which was clearly very stupid," she said. "Kissing you is a privilege that I treasure."

"I didn't mean it like that." Finn nuzzled her hair. "I didn't take it as you not wanting to, honest."

Rachel pulled his arms more tightly around her. "It was stupid anyway. It's not like I've caught much from you before, by the end I certainly wasn't going to develop anything in less than a day, and it turned out to be counterproductive."

"Counterproductive?"

"Kissing you always makes me feel so much better. Not just... aroused, but confident. More myself." She turned her head back for a lingering kiss, then gave a contented sigh. "_Happy._ I deprived myself of one of my favorite things and pretended I could do it all on my own."

"Can't you?" They continued to talk quietly.

"Not really. I used to think so, but I was wrong, and anyway that was a long time ago. I know better now. I'm stronger with you, I knew that then and I shouldn't have ignored it."

"So I _should_ have kissed you?"

"I should have let you. A few minutes making out with you before my audition and I probably wouldn't have choked." _And maybe you wouldn't have thought NYADA was more important to me than you are_, she thought but didn't say. _Or that I didn't need you._ He had denied thinking that and she believed him, but it was certainly an example of how she'd taken him for granted, thinking that she could just focus on herself and he'd always be there. Leading up to her audition she had executed her old plan like she had still been the same girl with the same go-to song who only depended on herself, no wonder she hadn't really felt like she was _into_ the performance. It hadn't been the real her. "Okay that's probably an exaggeration," she continued, "but my point stands."

"Sounds like a case of the if-onlies," Finn commented, stroking her arms. "You got in, we're here now, and anyway it's done. Can't wish it back."

"That's true." She gave him another kiss. "You're very wise."

"Just learning from experience."

"Perhaps it was for the best anyway, not the no kissing thing but that I choked. Even a good audition wouldn't have been a sure thing, and instead Madame Tibideaux got to see me at my absolute best."

Finn nodded. "You had an awesome solo at Nationals. And you fed off that audience."

"Actually I was thinking about the part after that, when I was singing with you. Of course it also helped that she saw me do both, there are many people who have just one great solo and nothing else, but you always bring out the best in me. The audience too, but definitely you." She was relaxed, sleepy, but still put it very decisively. He needed to know this.

"Yeah?" Finn adjusted himself behind her, cradling her body with his so they could sleep.

"Mm-hmm." She snuggled closer, both of them starting to drift off. "Thank you," she murmured.

"What for?"

"Coming to New York."

"Thank you for wanting me to," he whispered back. "I like it here."

* * *

They awoke shortly before seven, Finn pressed tightly against Rachel, his arousal obvious. She pulled away, but only enough so she could safely turn over, and Finn was very happy to find that Rachel was still quite aggressively amorous that morning.

They lay there together afterwards as their euphoria slowly ebbed.

"When do you need to get going so you can make it to class?" Finn asked, glancing at the clock.

"No later than eight... mmm, I do not want to get up."

Finn chuckled. "What happened to the girl who used to call me at seven in the morning with a whole head full of ideas she had to talk about?"

"She wasn't in bed with you at the time." Rachel sighed, snuggling close. "This is so cozy and your apartment is cold."

"So I could have slept in as long as I was sleeping with you."

"Probably." She giggled. "As long as what we just did counts as 'sleeping in'. I've certainly found a much better use for my excess energy, and other ways to express my ideas." She rolled over and stretched, then sat up and reached for her bag. "But tempting as you are, I do need to get to school. I hope you have enough hot water so I can take a quick shower."

"The tank's kind of small, but I won't be showering for a while, I'm going to get some more sleep once you leave. I have to slide my schedule around 'cause of the gig."

"Of course. I'll have to do that too someday, keep later hours," Rachel said. She stood, Finn's shirt hanging down like a dress on her, and shot him a flirtatious look. "I hope I didn't tire you out."

Finn grinned. "Nope, but you can try if you want to."

"I have class."

"I know. And you have to get to school, too."

Rachel giggled again and gave Finn a light kiss.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Rise and shine, Berry, time for your walk of shame," Santana called out.

"This is _not_ a walk of shame," Rachel called back, her attitude suddenly belligerent. She tossed her head and went to the door. "I am far from ashamed." She opened the door, meeting Santana's amused look by gesturing at her bag. "I brought a full change of clothes, and my overnight bag, I resent the suggestion that this is somehow accidental."

"I should have known you would be organized," Santana fired back, her eyebrows expressive. "But if it's not a walk of shame, what is it?"

"Obviously this is a booty call. Was. We're finished with that part. This time." Rachel picked up her bag and stalked over to the bathroom, presumably intent on her shower.

Finn barely heard the last part of that, he had buried his head into his pillow to muffle his laughter.

"Okay, even I have to admit that your girl is all kinds of adorable when she gets like that," Santana commented, and a few moments later they heard the shower start.

Finn grinned appreciatively, sitting up. Yes, Rachel was completely adorable, and so appealing. He looked over at the closed bathroom door, speculating. Behind that door was his naked and wet girlfriend, star of his dreams.

"No," Santana said firmly. "No way."

"No what?"

"I saw that look. No you are not having sex in part of the communal space of our apartment, even if I wasn't here, and all the more since I am. While I am impressed by your getting more adventurous, you need to indulge in that someplace where I don't live."

"But the shower is like it's self-cleaning," Finn protested. Maybe not now, but he still wanted to keep shower sex as an option, sometime when they were alone. They'd done it once back in late spring, in Rachel's bathroom at her house, and it had been completely hot even despite some issues with their height difference that they'd had to work around. Besides, it's not like he didn't jack off in there, and Santana knew that even though of course they never mentioned it.

"Like hell it is," Santana scoffed. "And even if it's your month to clean the bathroom, including the shower, which you had better be doing regularly, still _no_. And I'm next in the shower, you can give her your hot water but you're not giving away mine." Santana was smiling, but he knew she was serious about her restrictions.

_One fantasy at a time,_ he told himself. Just having Rachel show up out of the blue like that had been amazing, even better that she'd proposed nights like that to be a regular part of what they did together. And she had a point that they needed to stay connected, even when they were busy.

"Fine," Finn muttered. _Though we could do it sometime anyway, it's not like she would know..._ He looked over at his roommate, surprised as usual by just how much energy Santana had first thing in the morning. "How is it that you come in late and still manage to be the first one up?" he asked, just making conversation; his mind was still full of Rachel.

"Aside from my lack of anyone to keep me in bed? Clean living, of course." Santana deadpanned, though Finn could see there was an edge to the first part. Santana had been on a few dates with different girls, but nothing seemed to have progressed, and even without her talking about it Finn knew she was still haunted by her breakup with Brittany.

"Hey." He shot her a look of concern, but she brushed it off. "Thank you, San," he said seriously. "I wouldn't have any of this if you hadn't talked sense into me, so - thank you. And you know I'd help you with anything I could."

"I know." A shadow passed over her face, but she shook it off and gave him a tight smile. "Don't worry, I'll collect."

* * *

_* "When I'm With You", as performed by Sheriff, written by Arnold Lanni.  
_

* * *

_Please review!_


	26. The Power of Love

_A/N: I've been doing a lot of thinking about the show recently, teasing out patterns in what they've done. Patterns matter. And in the overall structure of the show that the patterns suggest, some of the things I initially liked the least are proving to be very important to the whole. I really like where I think they're going with what they're doing. It's not always pretty, but it has the potential to be quite profoundly beautiful._

_It's a bit distracting from my fic writing, since I'm becoming very interested in the overall story of the show that is currently unfolding. But I also have my story to tell, and we need some Finchel moments to tide us over._

* * *

Thursday night was showtime.

_The Invisible Hand_ was crowded, full of happy couples enjoying a Valentine's Day night out, with both the bar and the flower sellers doing excellent business. Management had been convinced to give them a much better fee due to the expectations of high bar sales, and Irene was glad to see it work out. Much better that they all be happy, she reasoned, then they could do it again.

Ten minutes before start, Finn had just done a last check over his drumkit when he got a text from Rachel: _I know you'll be great. Break a leg, I love you._

He texted back a quick _love you too_, then chuckled over her reply: _Time to turn your phone off._ And it was, so he did. He gave a last look over the setlist, feeling nervous but the good sort of nervous, the nervous that always went away once he took to the stage or the field, gave him energy to channel into kicking ass.

What a difference a few weeks had made. They had built the setlist while he was still so torn about how everything was going for him and worried about his relationship with Rachel; now, even though he still missed being able to spend that evening with her, he felt like he was on a roll. He'd done the right things, good stuff was happening to both of them, and he felt they were more together than they'd ever been. Okay, so it was still just a part-time bar band, but he could be happy that it was a really good part-time bar band. And he had Rachel.

So, opening with "White Wedding" - still kind of an eye-roller, but he could pound through it. He didn't have to pay attention to the words, Daryl had it covered and he'd swagger around enough for the whole band.

Finn took his seat, the others took their places, the lights came up, and then they were on. And were they ever, drums hammering and music soaring, the crowd energizing them and energized by them.

Idol gave way to Bowie gave way to Modern English gave way to Madonna, and then it was time for Finn's ballad. He collected himself, imagined Rachel there, and let the whole thing flow. It was still high, and hard to hold steady, but he felt it go right, and he put himself and truth and love into it.

Finn acknowledged the applause once he finished, then took a large swig of water. He'd done well and was glad to have made it; it had also felt really good pouring so much of himself into the song, even without Rachel here to hear and feel him. He settled back and stole a glance over at Irene, who was changing the settings on her keyboard but seemed very relaxed given what she was about to try. He'd still never heard her let loose on this song.

Then he felt it, a moment before he heard it, the sensation of Rachel's voice coming from behind him, and he almost forgot to breathe. (*)

_The whispers in the morning_  
_Of lovers sleeping tight_  
_Are rolling like thunder now_  
_As I look in your eyes_

Irene started playing the accompaniment, but Finn only heard Rachel. And felt Rachel, her voice touching him even more than he'd ever felt before, carrying her love to him with all the power she had. He smiled, feeling it sink in.

She had set this up as a surprise for him, he knew now. And the others, too - no wonder they had all reassured him it would go well, as they made the arrangements with the bar so that Rachel could join them.

And there Rachel was, walking slowly past, wearing a tight red dress and moving slowly with the music and the emotion of the piece.

_I hold on to your body_  
_And feel each move you make_  
_Your voice is warm and tender_  
_A love that I could not forsake_

Finn barely remembered to start the drum accompaniment; they'd drilled him on it, probably expecting this reaction. As he played, his drumming layering under her voice, he felt the combination thrill his soul.

_'Cause I am your lady_  
_And you are my man_  
_Whenever you reach for me_  
_I'll do all that I can_

And she had, how she had.

_Lost is how I'm feeling lying in your arms_  
_When the world outside's too m__uch to take_  
_That all ends when I'm with you_

_Even though there may be times_  
_It seems I'm far away_  
_Never wonder where I am_  
_'Cause I am always by your side_

She turned her head and looked straight at him, meeting his eyes as she sang those words, and he felt the promise in them. Then the chorus repeated, Rachel singing it out with all the power she had.

_'Cause I am your lady_  
_And you are my man_  
_Whenever you reach for me_  
_I'll do all that I can_  
_We're heading for something_  
_Somewhere I've never been_  
_Sometimes I am frightened_  
_But I'm ready to learn_  
_Of the power of love_

How they felt about each other, so strong and deep, so hard to handle. But it was theirs.

_The sound of your heart beating_  
_Made it clear suddenly_  
_The feeling that I can't go on_  
_Is light years away_

And he knew how she felt, what those words meant for both of them. Tears came to his eyes as he listened to this goddess that was somehow his, flooding the whole bar - maybe even the rest of the financial district - with how she felt about him and their fundamental connection.

_'Cause I am your lady_  
_And you are my man_  
_Whenever you reach for me_  
_I'll do all that I can_  
_We're heading for something_  
_Somewhere I've never been_  
_Sometimes I am frightened_  
_But I'm ready to learn_  
_Of the power of love_

And in that moment Finn surrendered, not to the universe or to fear, but to his heart.

_Oh the power of love_  
_The power of love_

Her last note rang out, and she lowered her head, the audience silent in reaction. Finn let his arms fall, still feeling the echoes of her voice go through him. For a moment, it seemed as though time had stopped.

"Our special guest tonight, making her Lower Manhattan debut, Ms. Rachel Berry!" Daryl announced, followed by the cheers of the audience, Rachel stepping forward and taking a quick bow before fading back. Then came a few catcalls and whistles, because, as Rachel walked to the back of the stage, Finn couldn't resist standing up and leaning over to give her a kiss. Given how that song had made him feel, and her singing it with him playing, being able to stop at a kiss was a huge achievement. Daryl glanced back at them, and laughed.

"While our drummer is recovering from that little surprise - seriously, Finn, did you think we'd let you be the only person here forced to fly solo tonight?" he looked back to see Finn's mouthed thanks, then laughed again and turned his attention back to the audience. "I hope the rest of you have found your own special someone too." Daryl gave a quick glance to the rest of the band, seeing them all ready, even Finn, with Rachel having slipped offstage to let the band continue. "This one's about the same thing as the last one." He broke into the Huey Lewis riff, Finn and Scott jumped in on cue, and the second and longer-planned song called "The Power of Love" took off.

Song followed song, Finn feeling extra energy knowing that Rachel was there. He heard her again late in the set, singing backup to Irene on a Pointer Sisters number; as for the first set finale, "Can't Stop This Thing We Started", well even though he wasn't singing it he still meant every word.

After the end of the first set Finn stashed his drumsticks and headed quickly offstage, with Rachel, who had been waiting there, following him curiously. He went to the room where the band had put their stuff, dug his wallet out of his jacket and pulled out a twenty.

"Consider this a deposit," he said to Scott, handing the bemused bassist the bill. As soon as it left his hands he turned to Rachel and gave her the most passionate kiss he could manage, her body molding to his as she returned it.

"I am so happy you're here," he murmured into her hair, still holding her tightly. "I feel on top of the world right now, you... well yeah you probably do have an idea about that." He loosed his hold and grinned down at her. "So you were sure it was going to work out, huh?" he teased.

She flashed a smile back up at him. "I had an inkling. And it was wonderful to do it. I hope I didn't overstep, though, I don't want to horn in on your things."

"Horn in? Not a problem, believe me. We're a team, right?" He met her eyes, and she nodded. "And this is the best Valentine's Day present ever."

"Well it's not just from me. I was intially quite surprised when Daryl called me up and asked me if I wanted to do it."

"Daryl set this up?" Finn was surprised, though he realized he shouldn't have been, the details of the non-financial arrangements with the bar were Daryl's responsibility. But for it to have been Daryl's idea... guess the guy had listened to Finn's outburst after all.

"Yes, he talked to me a couple of weeks ago. He said he didn't want to keep us apart on Valentine's Day, so he had talked to the manager, and he said he thought the man would agree to let me in as long as I fit with the performer exemption, the same way you do. So I would have to perform."

"Thank you for making that sacrifice," Finn teased.

Rachel giggled. "Anything for you. And we picked out the song, he said it would work for what you said the slot needed and I've wanted to sing it to you for a while. It was a bit hard to keep it quiet when you were worried about it, though. We might have been more open about it from the start but the manager only confirmed the arrangement three days ago."

"It's a great surprise. And I think the crowd loved it too, though I wasn't paying attention to them."

"It's a good thing I'm not in more then." She touched his cheek. "Can't have me distracting you too much on your big night. And I'm so glad I'm here to see you shine like this. You're amazing, Finn. Even from backstage, you are so amazing. And the crowd is loving all of it, possibly even almost as much as I do."

Finn blushed, then kissed her again, enjoying that shining look in her eyes. "Hey, you should join in for the finale," he said, inspiration hitting. "Not the encore, the second set finale, 'You're the Inspiration'. I'm lead, the rest join in at the end, you could do that too and add some harmony earlier as well."

"On the fly? After how much you've planned this?"

"Sure. It's not big, and anyway it's us, it's what we do. You'll know what to do when it happens, I trust you." He'd be better on it just knowing she was there with him, better still to feel her. And she should be there for him singing that, she was who made it true.

"All right. We should sing together on Valentine's Day, it's only proper." She leaned up for a kiss. "I'd better leave you to your break," she said. "See you on stage."

"You too. Great dress, by the way," he called after her as she walked back down the hall. Bright red, figure-hugging... "I'm glad every other guy in the place has a date."

Rachel gave him a flirtatious look over her shoulder, then left him to get his rest before the second set.

* * *

Rachel settled in at a table close to the end of the bar, next to Scott's girlfriend Rhonda. She was under instructions not to mingle, the bar manager still being a little concerned about her age; it was important that she be identified as part of the act, if it came to a check, and she had to largely stay apart from the other attendees. She had no interest in drinking tonight anyway, not when it could get in the way of feeling all that Finn was throwing her way in his performance. And everyone else there was on a date, so she didn't have to worry about strange guys trying to get her to 'mingle'. She was also happy to have the chance to get to know Rhonda, as the two girls talked in between Rhonda handing out the band's business cards.

Daryl had told Rachel a lot more about tonight than just the arrangements for her to sing. He had talked about how hard Finn had worked on the setlist and getting them to challenge themselves, and how getting ready for this show was making them all feel like a serious band for the first time. The setlist was largely Finn's work, she had been told, and by how well it hung together, one song leading the next, the energy rising and falling and taking the crowd along with it, she appreciated how effective his work had been. The first set had been structured, balanced, dynamic, allowing each band member to have their moments; even her solo had been put in a place that Finn had thought needed something like that, and it had worked. Even better that it had them essentially singing to each other in sequence, and that they would have a recording of it.

It was also quite clear that, over the months he had been with the band, playing, practicing, and taking a few lessons when he could, Finn had significantly raised his game. In the part of her mind that could still appreciate the music aesthetically instead of emotionally, she was very impressed with the performance and with what he'd accomplished. Her emotional side, on the other hand, was melting into a puddle on the floor, loving him, wanting him. He had started doing this for her, she knew, making something of himself in New York because that was where she was. But he was clearly so happy, enjoying what he was doing, that she felt good she'd been the catalyst for that. If Finn needed that inspiration and enticement to find what he had within himself, she was happy to provide it.

Time for the second set; the lights came up on the band again, and they started to play their 'title' song, the Wang Chung track "Dance Hall Days". It was followed by Scott's number, his first singing lead, and Rachel flashed Rhonda a smile as he started. Scott did well, clearly enjoying himself despite the newness of the experience, and they both applauded him enthusiastically as he finished.

Irene's number was next, one that Rachel knew Finn had picked out. As she listened to "Never" she appreciated the lyrics, happy to know that "never run away" was a message he had chosen. And Irene did rock it hard, stepping out from behind her keyboard for a lot of it and mixing it up with Daryl, playing up the words.

Irene stepped forward to acknowledge the cheers once she'd finished... and then came down off the side of the raised stage, over to the table where Rachel and Rhonda sat. She wasn't needed for the next one. Rhonda passed her the water that was waiting, and Irene took a swig. "Thanks." She grinned, clearly in high spirits despite all the energy she'd just spent. "Now let's watch the boys."

Finn started a light tap on the hi-hat, then Daryl's guitar started to wail, and the "boys" turned into a full-on power trio. _Versatile..._ Rachel thought.

Irene nudged her. "Finn worked his ass off on this one, I don't think he'd even heard it before though he wouldn't admit it." She leaned closer still to whisper. "He even changed a lyric so it's you."

Rachel blushed, then fixed her gaze on the back of the stage, where Finn was starting to sing. (**)

_If looks could kill, then you know she would..._

She'd thought he'd raised his game before, but this high intensity... Rachel shook her head, simply blown away by it all. And wondered how on earth this talented man had ever believed that he couldn't be "New York good". Maybe he'd been too used to just being what people told him to be, before, it was easier... but when he really and truly tried, persisted, look what he could do.

And he was so on, completely into it, even throwing her a wink partway through the second verse.

_I'm shook up, paralyzed by her fiery stare_  
_Long legs, and her shining hair_

Rachel blushed again, and he played on.

_I'm on a one-way ride, to where I just don't know..._

And maybe he was, they both were, but maybe that didn't matter as long as they were on it together. She had lived her life before according to plan, including her old singlemindedness for Broadway. Finding Finn had changed all that, yes she was still likely Broadway-bound but that wasn't the only destination there could be for her, not with them together. With Finn she wanted possibilities, the excellence of their art not confined to that narrow focus. Together. And one-way, no turning back now.

The second set seemed to fly by, and soon Rachel came up the side of the stage to join in for its finale. The fifth mike was back on its stand, now a bit behind Scott, next to Finn, presumably where he wanted her. They exchanged a look just before Finn started to sing: (***)

_You know our love was meant to be_  
_The kind of love that lasts forever_  
_And I want you here with me_  
_From tonight until the end of time_  
_You should know, everywhere I go_  
_You're always on my mind, in my heart_  
_In my soul_  
_Baby_

Rachel added depth to a few phrases, feeling where they should go from the touch of Finn's voice. She dived in a bit more on the chorus, sending herself back to him.

_You're the meaning in my life_  
_You're the inspiration_  
_You bring feeling to my life_  
_You're the inspiration_  
_Wanna have you near me_  
_I wanna have you hear me sayin'_  
_No one needs you more than I need you_

_And I know, yes I know that it's plain to see_  
_We're so in love when we're together_  
_And I know that I need you here with me_  
_From tonight until the end of time_  
_You should know, everywhere I go_  
_Always on my mind, in my heart in my soul_

_You're the meaning in my life_  
_You're the inspiration_  
_You bring feeling to my life_  
_You're the inspiration_  
_Wanna have you near me_  
_I wanna have you hear me sayin'_  
_No one needs you more than I need you_

The chorus repeated, then all five of them assembled at the front of the stage to sing the chorus one last time. Arm-in-arm they all looked out, seeing couples entwined close together, love in the air.

They walked offstage to the applause of the crowd, then a few minutes later the band returned to do the duet.

Rachel didn't hear a note of it. Every part of her still hummed with the previous song, with feeling herself so with Finn as she supported him singing it. Music, and truth, and love, and _them_.

"You okay?" Finn's question, and his hand on her shoulder, broke into her reverie. She hadn't even noticed the band was done.

"Oh yes," she answered, though she knew her smile up at him was dazed. "I'm so glad we sang that together, I can't seem to get it out of my head, not that I'm trying."

"Yeah, that was really something." He enfolded her in his arms.

"I wish I didn't have school tomorrow." She wanted to stay there forever.

"Can't you blow it off?" He cringed a little as soon as he'd asked it, and she knew he wished it back. "I know, you've got a performance class."

"Voice technique mid-morning. Even knowing the TA, I still can't miss it."

"Right." He leaned back up a little, looking her in the eyes. "I have to take care of the kit, I..."

"Scott's giving me a lift. I'll be fine. And I'll see you on Saturday for our date."

They exchanged further kisses and endearments, then went their separate ways to take care of the things they needed to.

* * *

Late Saturday afternoon Rachel took the subway out to Brooklyn. She had insisted on making her own way out there, not wanting to waste precious together time on travel. Finn had taken a little convincing, but had probably agreed eventually so he would have more time for his preparations.

She didn't stand out that much on the subway, having decided to go easier on her clothes and makeup. She remembered that first time long ago when Finn had told her he liked her better natural; her style had evolved as she grew up, but especially after how dolled up she had been on Thursday, she wanted to take it easy. Tonight was just about them.

So, natural makeup, a little more defined in case he'd gone for candlelight as she expected, and a looser red dress that still showed off her figure.

When she got off the subway she saw him standing at the foot of the escalator, a red tulip in his hand, and she gave an inner _squee_ at this romantic gesture.

Back at the apartment he had set up a table with, yes, candles - or at least something that looked and lit like candles.

"Smokeless candles," he said, seeing her look of inquiry. "Don't want to lose the damage deposit."

"They're lovely."

On their way in they had stopped in at the tapas bar where Finn had a takeout order waiting, and on arrival he quickly unpacked the food and arranged it on the small kitchen table. "It's not like a fancy restaurant or something, but I wanted it to be just us."

"I prefer this," Rachel responded, giving him a soft smile as she sat. "I don't care if it's cheap."

"Who said it was cheap?" Finn teased. "I had to bribe Santana to stay out. And cover all of the month's power bill so she won't complain that I turned the heat up."

"I can think of other ways to turn the heat up," she commented coquettishly.

Finn flushed, but met her gaze. They'd get to that, later.

Completing the meal was a bottle of bubbly.

"Careful, it's the real thing," Finn cautioned as he poured some into her glass. "Well, the Australian version of the real thing. Alcoholic. Scott dropped it off yesterday, I think he got it with part of that twenty I gave him."

"Bass player by night, bootlegger by day..."

"Guess so." He touched his glass to hers. "Cheers."

They talked as they ate, about a lot of things; they hadn't really had that much time to enjoy talking to each other over the last few weeks, with Finn so busy. Rachel told a few stories from her nights out, one night out dancing with Sean and a few others, and another spent singing a little at a coffeeshop with Morris and a couple of girls in junior year that he knew.

"Has Kurt met Morris yet?" Finn asked.

"No. He's reluctant, Morris has come on really strong though I think a lot of that is an act. But I'm hoping Kurt will come along the next time I go out with them, they're really fun and Kurt needs a social life. It can't just be work and me and Skype sessions with Blaine, he's going to forget how to interact with people, while living in New York of all places. Maybe if you could come too."

"To the coffeeshop thing?"

"Yes. Of course I'd like you to come anyway, and we could get quite a group for it, Sean and Kurt both so everyone would have a few people they knew. Maybe next Saturday, if you can make it."

"Sounds like a plan." The conversation drifted off to other things.

Dessert was strawberries, and they exchanged Valentine's gifts: a dark red wool scarf for Finn, and a pale pink heart pendant necklace for Rachel.

"It's carved from shell," Finn explained once she had thanked him for it. "They have to use diamond drills, it's really hard, almost unbreakable. They even guarantee it." And that was so sweet, him giving her an unbreakable heart, that she decided it deserved an extra special kiss, tender, passionate, and thorough. She left the necklace in its box, however, since around her neck it would just get in the way.

"Wow," Finn gasped once she finished kissing him. "That was incredible, I don't think you've ever kissed me quite like that before." He traced his lips lightly over her temple, still catching his breath. "I'm not sure where this is coming from, but I hope it keeps coming."

She nudged him back so that he sat down on the chair behind him, then sat on his knee with her arms around him. "I'm just being completely open about how I feel. I don't ever want you to think that I take you or what you mean to me for granted, or have you feel anything less than how special you are when you're with me."

He looked at her, his gaze soft. "It wasn't your fault, Rach. I was dumb and I panicked."

"It's not a matter of fault. You're mine to love, and if you don't feel it enough, I need to make sure you do. I know I can still be really self-involved, I need to make sure you know how much you matter. And," she went on, leaning closer, "it's not as if I don't want this myself too."

"Want what?" Their mouths were close enough for their breath to mingle.

"You want me to tell you?"

"Show me."

_In that case..._ She stroked down his arms and moved them, wanting to feel his hands on her. It didn't take him long to get the idea, and she sighed as his hand found her breast.

"That feels interesting," he murmured, feeling the lace texture of her camisole through her dress. "Very interesting."

"Glad you think so."

"Something you got specially?"

She'd known this could come up - wanted it to, actually, so they could air this out. "It was a gift."

"A _gift?_" His hand dropped. Finn wasn't happy at hearing this, she could tell, though he tried to cover up his reaction. "Please tell me I don't have to kick someone's ass for this."

"You don't. I think you could take her, but you still shouldn't." She took a deep breath, knowing what she was about to get into. "It's from Tina. Last May."

"Last - _oh._" And now he knew.

"I opened box zero." She looked into his eyes searchingly, trying to figure out his feelings, only to realize he was doing the same thing to her. She smiled. "It's okay," she said. "We're happy now, I figured I could handle it. And I'm keeping my promise, no crying over you this time." She met his eyes again. "That goes for you too."

"What -" he swallowed. "What else is in there?"

She slowly stroked his shoulder. "This, a few similar things..." This was hard. But it was time, and they were in a good place, they needed to deal with it now and they could. "A small black box..." She was tense as she referred to her engagement ring, and she felt Finn tense too. "And a piece of paper that has been tightly crumpled up and smoothed out again." She had carried the copy of the license application in her purse, crumpled it in anger and pain, then smoothed it out to treasure the signature of a man who had loved her enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her even if he didn't know how he could.

Finn's face scrunched up. "God, Rach..."

She cupped his cheek in her hand. "No tears today. We don't need them, we're here." She lightly kissed his closed eyes, then descended to his lips, seeking to kill their remembered pain with current passion, let their love heal them.

They made out for a minute, their tension easing, then Finn broke it off. "Hold on," he said. "While we're doing this..." he shifted her and she stood, then he got up himself. "I have something too."

Rachel waited as Finn went to his room, digging around in there, and returned with a mug. A large glass mug, the one from Chicago. She bit her lip, remembering, and he came to kiss her.

"Like you said, we don't need tears today. Let's use it." He snorted. "I'd better rinse it out first, it smells like socks." She waited while he did that, rinsed it and dried it.

"It's probably just as well you didn't try to step on it, it's really thick," she commented.

"Don't write it off. But for now let's use it. Okay?"

"Okay."

Finn poured some of the champagne into the glass, then held it out to her. "Here's to us."

"All the times that we messed up?" she quoted her Regionals solo back to him with a smile. They'd thought that day was their wedding day too.

"Yep. It's not the classiest way to toast Valentine's Day, but..." he shrugged.

"It's us." She took the glass, toasted him silently, and drank. Then giggled as the bubbles tickled her nose.

Finn took the glass back from her and followed suit, minus the giggling. He met her eyes seriously. "Are we good?"

"We're great."

"I still don't know what I'm doing," he admitted.

"The band was amazing. _You_ were amazing."

"It's a bar band. It's a pretty good bar band, but it's still just a bar band. And set into doing covers, there's not much place for it to go. I'm not even sure where I'd want it to go."

"Maybe you don't have to know."

Finn raised his eyebrows. "This, coming from the girl with a binder for everything?"

Rachel gave him an exaggerated pout. "Some things you plan. Okay, a _lot_ of things _I_ plan. But I've come to learn that some things aren't that plannable, or don't go according to plan anyway. Sometimes what shows up is better than what you had planned and you just have to go for it."

"Wow." He stared, putting the glass down. "Where did you learn that bit of wisdom?"

"From you." She saw his look of disbelief, and wrinkled her nose at him. "My big bad bar band drummer."

Finn chortled at the phrase, and skirted the table to stand over her. "Say that again."

"Big bad bar band."

"Faster." He leaned down, challenging her with a grin.

"Big bad bar band. Big bad bar band. Big bad bar band. Big band bar bad..." she caught herself tripping over it and laughed, then found herself pulled into Finn's arms as he joined in with her mirth. She gave him a vague kiss. "I love my big bad bar band drummer," she cooed. "And it's good on you, it gives you kind of an aura of bad boy appeal but it's still you."

Finn kissed her again. "We've likely had enough champagne though."

"Probably. What now?"

"Now I want to see this thing that Tina got you."

"Good thing you turned the heat up then."

"Just getting started." Which indeed they were.

* * *

___* "The Power of Love", as performed by Jennifer Rush, written by Gunther Mende, Candy DeRouge, Jennifer Rush, and Mary Susan Applegate.  
** "Spellbound", as performed by Triumph, written by Gil Moore, Mike Levine, and Rik Emmett. Lyrics modified by Henrietta Line.  
*** "You're the Inspiration", as performed by Chicago, written by Peter Cetera and David Foster.  
_

* * *

_Please review!_


	27. Hitting the Breaks

NYADA's Spring Break was the second week of March. Its students were divided on what to do with that week; many took advantage of the break to go home, others stayed around school to rehearse and work on performance pieces, while some actually went down to Florida to let loose.

Rachel was firmly in the second group, intent on spending as much time as she could either rehearsing for her role in the spring musical and her recital and audition numbers, or having additional time with Finn.

"Let me know when you're going to be in to work with Alex, if I rehearse at the same time then we can do something together afterwards," Rachel said to Finn once she had recapitulated her plans to stay in New York over the break, a week before it was due to start. They were sitting together on the couch at Rachel's apartment one evening, taking advantage of Kurt working late.

"Sure, but - you're not staying for me, are you? You should take a break if you need it, you've been working really hard," Finn protested.

Rachel looked curiously at him, then held out her free hand to his. He took it tentatively, and she shook it. "Hello, I'm Rachel Berry, have we met?" she chirped, then giggled as Finn rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm going to spend the week rehearsing at NYADA, it's a perfect opportunity to concentrate on things without having my rehearsals broken up by classes. Getting to spend more time with you is a fabulous extra." She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Besides, being with you _is_ my favorite way to take a break, could you really see me as a Spring Break party girl? Without you? There's just no way."

Finn tightened his arm around her at the image that conjured up. Sure Rachel in a bikini on a beach was a favored fantasy, but only with himself next to her, enjoying the view and ready to keep off any other guys who ventured near. He was happy she preferred to stick around, he'd really just wanted her to say it.

"Okay," he said. "I'll let you know when Alex wants me in for that week, when I know. I think it's mostly the same each time, at least until the band heats up again." He gave her a smile. "But since _you_ will be around, great idea to do something after by the way, I'll let him know that I could be around more if he wants me to be."

Rachel sighed happily and snuggled against his chest. "I like the sound of that," she said. "You're enjoying working with Alex, aren't you?"

"Sure." He nuzzled her hair. "It's interesting. Really different though."

"What do you mean? I thought he was trying for the same style as you play with the band."

"He does, but it's different not hearing it first. With the band we listen to the original and then we change it up a bit, make it work for us and do some stuff with it that we want. With Alex's stuff it's brand new and I have to play it just the way he wrote it. Backwards, kind of."

"Well that's the difference with being hired."

"Yeah, I get that. It's just not what I'm used to. But he's testing out ideas, if I don't play them as written that loses the point. And it's cool seeing them take shape, being in at that stage and seeing what he puts together, what he keeps and what he doesn't." He yawned. "Even though it can be hard work sometimes, figuring out how to break the whole thing down and put it together, without changing any of it or thinking what I'd do instead with any of it."

"Tired?" Rachel asked, noting his yawn.

Finn nodded. "Sleepy, anyway."

"Can you stay?"

"Uh-huh. Even brought a change of clothes."

"I can't do much, you know." Rachel's tone was apologetic. But he'd been expecting this, from what she'd said about her cycle it was time, and anyway he could tell by the way she'd been holding back a little as they'd made out.

"I figured. Still want to stay." Which was certainly true, and he also wanted her to know that, know that he was happy just to spend the night with her in his arms.

She beamed, then rose and beckoned him to follow her to her room. "Good."

* * *

Rachel loved being at NYADA during Spring Break. There were many others around, certainly, but with no classes a lot of potential rehearsal space was available, and she enjoyed having coherent time to work.

Her musical scenes were in rehearsals three mornings that week, Monday-Wednesday-Friday. She set aside some time in the remaining mornings to work on her audition and recital songs, having leveraged her work with James and the trust she had earned to get access to Aud 5 with its audio recording equipment, and had a dance rehearsal room booked for Tuesday and Thursday afternoons to work on her dancing. Sean had decided to go back to Syracuse for the week, with Emily not on break until the following week, so she was on her own for dance but vowed to make the best of it.

Tuesday afternoon Finn was also at NYADA, working with Alex in preparation for playing Alex's two new pieces the next day with both Alex and Scott. He dropped by her rehearsal room just as she was warming up, and she decided to take advantage of it to have him help her stretch. Which was rather erotic, having his hands on her moving her limbs under her direction, and she could tell he was reacting to it too. They had to be satisfied with some deep kisses, however, with plans to get together afterwards. Finn said he should be done by four, so she watched him go and then refocused on her work.

Rachel paced herself carefully, not wanting to risk injury, but by two-thirty she was feeling confident in what she could do on her own with the group routine, and in how she had improved in her kicks, jetes, and pirouettes. After a short break she turned to a solo routine she was working on for one of her audition songs; she was determined not to be typecast simply as a vocalist, and being able to sing while dancing was the ultimate challenge. Barbra Streisand's "Woman in Love" was slow and beautiful, and her research had found it appropriate for a rumba, so she had added some steps she thought appropriate for the lyrics: slow, demonstrating control, grace, and physical expression. She worked through it in stages to a recording and then tried it on her own, a bit slower than Barbra, enjoying performing the combination of voice and movement, linking them together with emotion: (*)

_With you eternally mine_  
_In love there is no measure of time_  
_We planned it all at the start_  
_You and I live in each other's heart_  
_We may be oceans away_  
_You'll feel my love_  
_I hear what you say_  
_No truth is ever a lie_  
_I stumble and fall_  
_But I give you it all_

She even managed to add a few turns as she held the long note, pouring herself into the piece, feeling it in her very soul. The only thing that could make it more complete would be the presence of the man who gave it all meaning, who inspired those powerful feelings for her to express. But Finn had his own things to do, though she was disappointed when four o'clock came and went with no sign of him. Busy, she supposed, which she hoped was a good sign when it came to his work. So she repeated her solo routine a few more times and then went in search of him, finding him still in one of the small music rooms in the basement of Shubert. She looked in, seeing him sitting at the drums, moving his arms a little in some sort of thoughtful process.

She entered quietly. "Hi," she said as he looked up. "Everything okay?"

"Is it after four already?" He checked the clock, which said 4:43. "Damn, sorry. I've just been working on this piece."

"That's fine. Music doesn't need an apology." She looked at him more carefully as she came up to him. He looked tired, but pained in some way too. The way he looked when he started getting down on himself. "How is it going?" she asked, forcing her voice to be bright. He'd tell her if he wanted to, though she hoped he would. She sort of needed to know that he would.

Finn rubbed his hand over his hair. "I'm frustrated," he admitted. "Alex let me get away with slowing it all down, since it's new, but I shouldn't have."

Rachel frowned at this comment. "Why not? Surely it's not unusual to need to try it out slower first."

"I've practiced a bit, it's not that. I was covering, there's a sequence I can't get up to speed so I slowed the whole thing down." He slumped on the stool, exasperated. "I figured I would work on it more and get it now, but I can't. It doesn't matter how many times I play through it, even adjusting how I think about the pattern, I can't get it up to speed without screwing up."

"Can you show me?"

"Show you me screwing up?"

"Show me slowed down. I know I don't know anything about these things, but I find when I'm struggling with something it can help to explain it to someone. And you shouldn't keep it bottled up."

Finn sighed. "Okay." Rachel moved away to watch. Finn stretched, collected himself, then started playing.

"I just can't get that any faster," he said after he had finished, miming out the critical piece again. "No matter how I change how I break it down, I can't get back fast enough to complete the sequence." He looked at her, his face pained. "I don't know what to do," he admitted quietly. "Scott's coming tomorrow so we'll need to play it at full speed, and _I can't do it._"

"Could other drummers play something like that?" Rachel asked, coming to stand behind him, her hand touching his shoulder. He turned to look up at her.

"Sure. I mean Neil Peart can play anything, and there are others, even session drummers..."

"Drummers who would be hired for the show?"

"Show?" Finn was confused.

"Of course. Alex is composing music for his planned Broadway show, isn't he? This doesn't have to only be played once in a studio or even on a concert tour, it's going to have to be played every night, and if it's really successful in multiple places, by touring companies, that sort of situation. Would there be enough people, affordable drummers, who could play it in order for that to work?"

Finn stopped, this issue registering on him. "No," he said finally. "I know I have a long way to go, there are a lot better than me, but if he needs that then it's going to be hard to find someone to do it, as part of a show like that."

"And presumably he's not going to want hiring the drummer to be the critical issue for mounting the show," Rachel said. She paused, waiting. "Well then."

"Well what?"

"You have to tell him."

"Tell him what, tell the NYADA composer-in-residence that he can't compose?"

"That what he has composed is essentially unplayable by all except the upper echelon, yes. Diplomatically."

"Diplomatically?" Despite Finn's frustration with the drum sequence and the situation, he chuckled at hearing this coming from her.

"Yes. I have learned how, you know."

He leaned up to whisper. "I still like you more than anyone else does."

Rachel smiled. "You usually understand me more than anyone else does." She kissed his upraised cheek. "But back to the matter at hand. He's paying for your expertise, give it to him."

"He's paying me to play this stuff, and I can't."

"Because the sequence doesn't work. Unless he composes it while looking at the layout of a drum kit, he may not know that."

Finn paused, thinking. "Huh." It was true that if someone just knew what was available but not how it was usually arranged physically, they might come up with something that didn't work the way that this didn't. "I should tell him," he said tentatively.

"You should tell him," Rachel stated. "You don't need to explain your practice process, but you need to tell him. If nothing else you don't want him to meet with you and Scott tomorrow thinking that he's going to hear it up to speed if it's not going to happen."

"Bad surprises are not a good idea," Finn muttered.

"Trust me, they're really not."

Finn sighed and stood. "I'll go and talk to him now, he should still be in his office upstairs."

"Do you want me to come with you?" For moral support, she meant.

"No, I've got this. Go take your shower and I'll meet you there." He reddened as he caught Rachel's smirk at his words. "Outside the showers, when you're done."

"Pity. Though it's just as well, I don't want that sort of activity on my record."

* * *

Finn went in search of Alex, and found him still in his office, though it took a few knocks to get his attention.

"It's the drum sequence," Finn blurted out when Alex asked him what was up. "Not the whole part, just a bit of it. I'm really sorry but I just can't get it up to speed."

Alex frowned. "It's not that complicated a rhythm, you've handled much more and faster already."

"They weren't structured quite like this. It's not the rhythm, it's the layout."

"Layout?"

"Yeah, uh, yes, it's the physical movement," Finn tried to explain, still hesitant. "I've tried breaking it down a few different ways, but..." he put the score with the drum notation on the desk. "I just can't get my right hand back over to pick up this strike," he went on, pointing, "not right after doing the previous pattern and keeping my left hand where it is. Not controlled enough, anyway, if I get the speed up it's a crash not a tap, and anyway I can't continue the sequence after that." He waited, looking at Alex, who frowned as he looked down at the score. "Is it supposed to be like that?" he asked eventually.

"That's what I wrote," the composer muttered. He was clearly unhappy about something, but Finn couldn't tell what.

"Is it supposed to be that hard?"

"No." Alex sighed. "I'm sorry, Finn, obviously there are issues I wasn't aware of. It doesn't seem that different from the other sequences, just a variation I found interesting." He snorted. "I suppose that's why it's different," he said wryly. "Thank you for letting me know, I'll have to rework this."

"You might be able to get someone else," Finn offered reluctantly, not wanting to get in the way of the man's creative vision. "There are better drummers out there."

Alex gave him a smile at that. "No, I don't think this is you, Finn, it's me. It's not supposed to be difficult, it's supposed to be something that gets played eight times a week as part of a two-and-a-half hour show. And that sequence is just an accent, it's not the focus." He nodded at the guest chair by the door. "Have a seat."

Finn sat down, and waited as Alex looked at the score, his eyes following the lines, his lips pursed. "Did you -" Finn started to ask, but stopped as Alex held up his hand for silence, the composer apparently thinking hard. So Finn sat in silence, trying to keep his mind off it, waiting. And waiting. He did his best to not look, not wanting to disrupt whatever process was going on, Alex now staring off into space.

Eventually Alex turned to his computer and called up a file to play; the basic melody of the song. He read through the drum score as it played, a pencil in his hand, and as he approached the sequence in question he started making marks.

Finally he circled some of then new marks, crossing out others, and turned back to Finn. "Does this work?" he asked, turning the score so Finn could read it. "Ignore this, it's notes for a revision to the bass line, just follow the changes here through here," he said pointing to some of his new notation.

Finn read the revision, moving his arms around a little to mime out the revised sequence. "Yes, that should be fine," he said once he was done. "I hope it still does what you want it to."

"Different elements, but I think it should have the same overall characteristics and impact." Alex smiled. "Thank you, this was a big help. Much better to get it fixed now than before I was more set on it. The motifs here are intended to be repeated elsewhere and linked to others, it could have been a real mess if I'd had another month on it."

Finn blinked, relieved and happy to hear this. "I'm really glad I could help."

"Tomorrow then. I'll send the bass modifications to Scott, though we'll probably need to go later since he may need more time on it."

"Sure, no problem. See you tomorrow."

Finn exited Alex's office and closed the door behind him before relaxing and exhaling in relief.

"Things go well?" Rachel was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall next to the door, an open notebook on her knees.

Finn was startled and checked the time. "Did it take that long? Sorry, Rach, it just flew by."

She smiled up at him, putting her notebook away. "I had some notes to make on my audition numbers, it's not a problem." She held her hands up, and he took them to boost her to her feet. She reached a little higher for a kiss. "Things go well?" she repeated. "You look a lot happier."

He smiled. "He changed the sequence, it shouldn't be any problem now. It's like you said, he didn't know the issues with the drum layout."

"Wonderful." She took his arm. "Shall we get takeout and head back to my place?"

"Sounds great."

* * *

McKinley's spring break was the last week of March. Blaine was coming to visit Kurt for a few days, so Rachel had arranged to stay with Finn to give them some space. The commute to NYADA was long, but Rachel could manage, and it was a little exciting for them to give a short-term try at living together. Santana, for her part, had finally opened up about the girl she had been seeing recently, a 22-year-old visual artist who lived in the Village, and as part of this experiment was planning to spend a couple of nights with her.

"Natalie's been on me to model for her, this should give us that chance," Santana had explained, when they had met with her and Kurt to hatch this plan. "And I think I'm ready for this. Plus it stops me from getting too annoyed with the domestic duo here." They had smiled their thanks at her, and then received her last warning: "Just no rearranging my kitchen, Berry."

Which meant that early Saturday evening Finn was cleaning his room, wanting it to be neat for Rachel and also free up a little space for her things. She was to stay four nights, starting Sunday night.

A knock at the door interrupted him, and he went to open it. He had no idea who it could be, Rachel wasn't coming until the next day and Santana had the dinner shift at the tapas bar, she wouldn't be back for at least another hour and anyway she would have her keys. Everyone else he knew would have called first.

He opened the door, then froze, his jaw hanging down. He certainly hadn't expected to see the blonde that stood there, a small suitcase at her feet. They blinked at each other for a couple of moments, then she spoke.

"Hi Finn. Do you still talk?"

This broke Finn out of his shock. "Uh... yes. Yes, I still talk." He swallowed. "So, hey Brittany, Santana didn't say you were coming. Uh, come in." He let Brittany in, then closed the door, his brain scrambling. _Of course she didn't say, she didn't know, she's planning to spend time with Natalie this week... shit._ "It's good to see you."

"If Santana did say I was coming that would have been a lie. Or is it a lie if it's true but you don't know that it's true?"

"Ah, I don't know. Soda?"

"Yes please." She perched at the edge of one of the living room chairs, and Finn brought her a soda from the fridge. His mind was still trying to figure out what to do, or at least some sense to make out of Brittany's arrival, but nothing was coming out. Santana had been so cagy about her breakup that he didn't even know who had done the breaking up, much less any of what had caused it other than distance. Santana liked to keep things private, and when he had seen Brittany briefly over Christmas he'd only been able to tell that she missed Santana, nothing else.

Well whatever was going to go down, Santana probably needed privacy for it. Finn excused himelf to Brittany, explaining that Santana would be back in about an hour, then went to his room and called Rachel.

"Hey," he said when she answered. "Can I come over tonight? In an hour or two?"

"Of course. But I was coming over tomorrow, once Blaine gets here, is there something wrong?"

"Something wrong, or maybe something right. Messy either way. Brittany just showed up."

"_Oh._" She paused. "What is Santana doing?"

"She gets off work in forty-five minutes, so I guess I'll find out then. But under the circumstances..."

"You want to give her space," Rachel finished for him. "Of course."

"Unless she wants a witness or referee or something. And I don't know what this means for the rest of our week."

"We'll think of something."

"And this means I'll be arriving really late, sorry. And getting up early, I have my shift." He groaned. This was going to be a long commute.

"You apologizing to me for _you_ not letting _me_ sleep in, that's new," she teased.

Finn chuckled. "Yeah, guess so. Anyway, I have to pack something quickly, I'll let you know in an hour whether I'm coming but I think I will be." He hung up, shoved a change of clothes and his shaving kit into his overnight bag, tidied up a little more, then went out to talk to Brittany.

Sounding out Brittany about what she had in mind in coming turned out to be an exercise in frustration, so he asked about Glee Club. He wasn't sure what half of the things she said meant, as usual, but the general impression he got was that they were all really happy about the regionals win. And that Brittany thought she should have a big solo at Nationals but she seemed like she'd be happy either way.

Then he caught the time and told Brittany he had to step out for a few minutes. He walked out into the hall and along to the stairwell where Santana would come up, and waited.

Five minutes later he heard footsteps, then the door.

"Hey Lurch, what's with the welcoming committee? Are you locked out?" Santana brushed by him, but he strode after her and grabbed her arm gently.

"No." He saw her frown as she turned to face him, tensing, preparing herself for anything. "We have a visitor, I wanted to warn you before..." He took a deep breath. "It's Brittany."

"Britt-?" Santana froze, her face stunned.

"She's in the living room, she showed up almost an hour ago. I don't know what's going on. Just let me know what you want me to do. I've packed a bag, I can spend the night at Rachel's, give you space. Or not, if you want me here. Just let me know," he repeated.

"But... Rachel was coming tomorrow, Blaine's coming, and..." she clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, God. Natalie. I was... _oh fuck_."

"Do you need me to stay? Because you sound like you could use some help."

Santana closed her eyes, then opened them, and shook her head decisively. "No, it's okay. I don't even know what she wants yet and it'll be easier if we're alone and can talk."

"Okay. Call me if you need anything." Finn walked back into the apartment, heading straight for his room to get his bag. As he left, he gave a glance at Santana and Brittany, both looking tentatively at each other, and thought a quick prayer that somehow things would work out, however Santana needed them to.

* * *

Rachel saw the text Finn sent confirming that he was coming, then went to talk to Kurt in the kitchen. "Finn's coming over tonight," she told him.

"No." Kurt stated this flatly. "You're staying over at his place for four nights starting tomorrow, can't you wait? The two of you can't be that horny. I'm trying to get things set up for Blaine."

"'Set up'?" Rachel inquired. She was going to explain right away, but Kurt's attitude irked her. "Your room is spotless, as usual, as are the main areas. What else do you need to do?"

"They won't remain spotless with your boyfriend here. And I need to rearrange things in the bathroom."

_'My boyfriend'? And Finn is always quite tidy when he's visiting here._ She blinked. _What's that about the bathroom?_ "Hold on, what are you talking about, rearranging the bathroom?"

Kurt waved his hand airily. "Since you won't be here, it makes sense to give Blaine your counter space in the bathroom," he explained.

"And you were going to discuss this with me _when_?" Rachel protested in response. "It's my counter space. I haven't left yet, and I might not."

"You're not going to be here, I thought I could just box anything up that you didn't take..." Kurt stopped as Rachel's last words registered. "What do you mean, you _might not_? You offered. I didn't ask, this was your idea."

"I know. But Blaine isn't the only one at McKinley who's on Spring Break."

"Who -?" Kurt cut himself off, the situation dawning on him. "_Brittany?_"

"Showed up completely unexpectedly. And while I do want to give you and Blaine space, whatever Santana and Brittany have to work out certainly needs privacy, so Finn's on his way, at least for tonight." She paused, seeing Kurt's mind work on this new problem. "I'm sure you wouldn't turn _your brother_ away when he needs somewhere to stay."

"All right," Kurt said reluctantly. "But that doesn't change the issue with the counter space. Blaine is going to need places for his cleanser, toner, and moisturizer, among other things. I want him to be comfortable."

"I'm surprised you haven't convinced him to use the same ones as you do yet." Rachel had certainly heard enough of Kurt's opinions on what she herself used.

Kurt shrugged. "His skin is a little oilier. He's never actually told me so, but it's obvious from what he uses so I don't push. And trust me, there is nothing wrong with the state of his skin, or at least there wasn't the last time I actually got to touch it."

Rachel smiled a little at Kurt's wistfulness, but still cringed. _I'm not going to think about that,_ she told herself. _And I definitely don't want to be here for it._ She marshalled her thoughts and did her best to turn the subject back onto their apparently fragile bathroom space truce; if she was going to still be here while Blaine was visiting, she didn't want to feel like an outsider in her own home, or a prisoner in her room. She and Finn did better than that by Kurt, after all. "Finn doesn't use any counter space when he stays over," she stated. Finn didn't even leave his shaving kit out at his own apartment; there was probably some sort of agreement there as well. She didn't think she would mind if he did, it certainly wouldn't take much more space than Kurt's things.

"He doesn't stay for multiple nights. Blaine will essentially be living here." Kurt glared at Rachel. "And no that is not an offer."

Rachel sighed. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I do want to give you and Blaine space, you know I do." _And I also don't want to have to share the bathroom with both of you._

Kurt sighed in turn. "I suppose we have to wait and see. Who knows, maybe Brittany won't stay."

"Would you really want that? For them?"

"No," he answered glumly. "Oh well, we'll make the best of it, I suppose."

Finn showed up an hour later, knocking quietly at the door. By then Kurt was in bed. Rachel was all ready to sleep as well, so Finn washed quickly, set his phone to wake him early, and slid into bed with her.

"Thank you, my angel," he murmured sleepily as they curled around each other.

Rachel smiled at the endearment. "That's new, I like the sound of that."

"It's from something Sam told me once." Finn yawned. "I'll explain it later, I'm beat and I have to get up early. 'Night."

* * *

The next day Finn returned to his apartment after his shift at the diner, to find the place empty. He unpacked his overnight bag and wondered if he needed to pack it again, or even if there was anywhere to stay. Brittany visiting Santana, Blaine visiting Kurt - he wanted to be helpful to everyone, they certainly deserved it from how much they'd helped himself and Rachel, but not to the extent of having nowhere to sleep. _It was going to be such a great week, too, to have Rachel over for a few days..._ he exhaled and dumped the rest of his bag directly into the laundry hamper, then realized he'd been interrupted the evening before when he had planned to do it. He threw in the bathroom towels while he was at it, and went down to do laundry.

Once the loads were started he texted Santana: _At home doing laundry._ He really wanted to add _WTF is going on_, but opted for _situation update? please?_. Santana liked the little "please" added, it was good for her ego.

Ten minutes later he got a response: _at dinner with Brittany and Natalie._ Which at least made him feel better about being uncomfortable, because Santana would be a whole lot worse. Especially since she was supposed to be working, so she would have had to get someone to cover for her.

He called Rachel next and got an update from her. Blaine had arrived, and he and Kurt and Rachel were all eating Chinese takeout at the apartment; Kurt and Blaine were sitting cozily together, having already fed each other spring rolls and come close to reenacting the spaghetti scene from _Lady and the Tramp_ using shanghai noodles.

Blaine grabbed Rachel's phone to tell him 'hi', which was nice, but otherwise it kind of sucked to hear about them being all loving when he and Rachel were going to have that too but had had it screwed up. Yeah, he got the reunited-and-it-feels-so-good of it, and he and Rachel had a lot more chances to be together, but it did sound like Kurt was pushing it in Rachel's face that he wasn't going to let the fact that she was staying around change what he did.

"Are we ever that bad?" Finn asked Rachel once she got her phone back. If nothing else he was pretty sure they didn't go in for feeding each other food with others around, ever, a lot of the time what they were eating was totally different.

"No," she answered. "But it's okay, it's certainly going to limit future criticism."

"No it's not," he heard Kurt call out.

"If nothing else it will limit how much we _listen to it_," she stressed, but hey it's not like they really listened to it much before. Though they did try to be discreet around their roommates, when they remembered to, and maybe they didn't need to be so discreet any more.

Finn turned his attention back to the laundry, moving things over to the dryers, glad that nobody else was wanting to use any of them at the moment. He settled down and played some games on his phone as he waited.

* * *

The dryers were about half done when the door opened and Santana came in.

"Hey," he said as he saw her. She looked pretty stressed. "How was dinner?" he asked tentatively.

"Weird." She groaned, sagging into a chair. "Friendly and nice, and it could have been really comfortable if it hadn't been so _weird_."

"So..." He still didn't know anything about what had happened between her and Brittany after he left the night before, or what the situation was that led to the three girls getting together. Not that he really wanted to, but hey it was happening, whatever it was, and anything that affected his roommate was guaranteed to affect him sooner or later. Plus he couldn't sleep at Rachel's again that night, not unless he really had to.

Santana sighed. "Turns out Natalie is pretty open about these things. So is Brittany."

"Oh." Finn paused, not sure what Santana meant by 'open'. "So, um, 'open' meaning...?" _Don't ask._

"Brittany wants to be with me. Natalie wants to be with me. They're even okay with being with each other, at least for now, as long as I'm there." Santana looked at Finn, who by this point had his face scrunched up, eyes screwed closed in the vain hope that by doing so he could also stop hearing anything. She snorted. "The look on your face. It's priceless. The silver lining in all this mess."

"Uh... I really don't need to hear all this. I know it's my turn and all..." Finn did his best to relax his face and open his eyes, though he was still tense. He really didn't want to know what Santana was telling him. He looked at her, and she did seem kind of wryly amused.

"Damn straight it is. And at least I get this limited entertainment from the situation, so suck it up." She smirked. "Actually you should cringe more, just make sure you do it where I can see you." Finn looked at her, seeing the hollowness behind her smile. "You know, if you were Puckerman, your eyes would be glazing over at the thought of three hot girls going at it together and you'd be trying to figure out how to peek in." Finn cowered, covering his ears with his hands, and Santana laughed. "That's better, thanks."

"Yeah well, it's like you said when we first moved in, even with what happened we've never really seen each other fully naked and we want it to stay that way, right? And I'm pretty sure you'd've had to be completely desperate if you were going to move in with Puck, so let's leave the lines where they are."

"Who says I wasn't completely desperate just to move in with you?" But Santana sighed. "Anyway, we had a really sweet dinner, all three of us. But it turns out that the one person who's not okay with that particular scenario - other than you, obviously, but that's not important - that would be _me_."

Finn said nothing, sure that all possibilities would be bad ones. Santana waited, apparently trying to get him to say something, but eventually rolled her eyes and continued.

"I don't know," she went on. "Maybe I'm just too compartmentalized about it, or something. I love Britt, I always have and I still do, but she's just here for a few days, and I'm already worried about her having to get around town. She seems the same, pretty much, but I'm not. And then..." She grimaced.

"Huh." Finn figured he could get away with a grunt, to keep her going. She seemed like she needed to talk.

"And then there's Natalie. It's new, and it's not like with Britt, but I like her. I wasn't expecting this from her though."

"Expecting what?" Finn asked tentatively. _That's what she wants me to ask, right?_

"Maybe I should be flattered that she likes me enough to offer to share, temporarily anyway, but -" she shrugged. "I guess I wish she liked me so much that she wouldn't want to."

_Oh._ This pushed Finn into an actual comment. "Maybe she wants that, like she hopes you're not okay with it."

"Maybe. And I know I've been involved with more than one person at a time before, but that was when one of them didn't really mean anything." She groaned. "When did I become a one-woman girl? It's so sad."

"It doesn't have to be. Not if you can figure out who the one woman is and be with her." This, at least, was stuff that Finn knew something about.

"Could _you_ love more than one person at the same time?"

Finn shrugged. "Not really. Not like that, anyway. I thought I did, but it turned out I didn't."

"No fantasies of Fabray and Berry showing up naked demanding a threesome?" Finn's eyes bugged out at hearing this, and Santana cackled. "Needed to get my jollies somehow. It's great how expressive your face is."

Truthfully, Finn had had dreams like that, back in junior year, but they had always turned into nightmares, turning to Rachel and seeing the hurt look on her face, turning to Quinn and seeing claws, then being on the ceiling and looking down on all three to see that the guy in the bed wasn't him any more, it was Puck. His current dreams of naked Rachel involved just the two of them, and they always ended well. (Usually very well. Sometimes they ended by becoming real.)

"So what are you going to do?" he asked.

Santana sighed. "Right now, nothing, which totally sucks. I don't want to mess things up with either of them until I know what I want. Britt's staying for a few days, she can get to know the new me, and the new me can see what it feels like being around her again, and we'll see." She pressed her lips together. "You guys got to know each other again well, though, right? You and Berry?"

"Uh... yeah," Finn answered. _I'm supposed to be the wise one now? Uh..._

"So it could be like that for us too. We'll see."

* * *

His laundry done, Finn went back up to his room and called Rachel to give her the news. They also needed to try to figure out what to do for sleeping arrangements.

"So, Brittany's staying here for a few days but on the couch," he explained. "Santana wants to spend time with her as a friend. I'm not sure what's going on, but I think San doesn't either and doesn't want to jump into any big changes while she's confused. Plus Brittany has to go back to school after that anyway."

"Ah."

"I'm not sure what that means for what we can do. They still need space, but not too much, San says. How are things there?"

Rachel sighed. "I love your brother, really I do," she stated. "He's a wonderful friend and he saved both of us. But if he keeps on with his plan to pretend that I don't live in my own apartment, things around here may go rather permanently sour." She thought for a moment. "Unless you come here too, then we can hole up in my room and happily ignore the others," she went on, her voice more husky.

"Kurt would freak."

"I know," Rachel groaned.

"And Santana sort of wants someone else here. I think she's afraid that if she's alone with Brittany for too long they're going to slide back into how things were without thinking things through."

"So us both being there would be in the way, but both of us being here would be too much out of the way, and anyway Kurt would be furious."

"Guess so," Finn muttered in reply. "All of these options seem to suck, including if we just stay where we are."

"Yes." Rachel paused, apparently considering options. "Let's swap," she said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Swap. In all of these annoying combinations, there's one we haven't thought about, you stay at my place and I stay at yours."

"But then we'd still be apart." Finn thought for a moment about the practicalities. "And we'd both have a really crappy commute, you to NYADA and me to the diner. Plus I have band practice."

"It's just for a few days, not even the rest of the week. Santana said she wants a sort of chaperone, right? Someone else around so she and Brittany have to try being friends. But not both of us because we're a couple. And I'm already going crazy with Kurt doing his best to act like I'm a semi-invisible houseguest that he and Blaine are hosting in my own room, I get why but it's still annoying. Blaine's really apologetic about it but I'm not sure that helps much. Hopefully you would find it less annoying since you don't normally live here."

_I'd probably just be there to sleep,_ Finn thought, realizing that this was why it might work. "So, what, you would stay here to chaperone Santana and Brittany, sleep in my room, and I'd sleep in your room and try to stay out of Kurt and Blaine's way?"

"Yes." She chuckled. "Same gender housing, not very normal for us is it? We can pretend it's like Nationals, only without the sneaking around."

Finn smiled. "That was the best part. But I can see giving it a try. I could pack some changes of clothes and get over there tonight." He paused. "But when will I get to see you again?"

"You should wait at your place until I get there," she answered. "I won't take long to repack." Finn snorted at this. "I've gotten a lot better at it, and it's more a case of changing what I was going to bring to suit the situation," she protested. "I'll be coming close by here anyway, to go to school, so if I want something else I can just go get it. And you're working with Alex a couple of times this week, aren't you?"

"Yes, but..." he lowered his voice. "When will I get to _be_ with you again? I know it's just a week, we've done way longer, but it's sort of the whole bait-and-switch of the thing, I thought we'd be together most of the week." He had really been looking forward to it. He waited for an answer, concerned as the time dragged on without one. "Rach? You okay?"

"Plans change," she replied, and he could hear an edge to her voice, a tightness. "And I'm trying really hard not to bring a certain dramatic plan change up because we're moving past that."

Finn groaned, but he knew he'd put that badly. And sure, fine, he could suck it up. At least this was only temporary. Short temporary. "Yeah, okay," he said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to whine. But we are past that, right? And I know better than to pull crap like that now." He hoped she would like how he saw what he'd done then. He waited again for her response.

"No unilateral or undiscussed major changes of plan, we've agreed on that, and I trust you. I'm still fine with carrying out the original plan, I stay with you at your place, but from what you say that's going to be a problem for Santana and Brittany. I can understand that, you remember what it was like being around Sean and Emily when we were still putting ourselves back together. It makes a hard thing harder."

"Heh." Finn snickered at her choice of words.

"Not the good kind," she reprimanded, but her voice was warm. "We could at least try swapping, for tonight. Aren't you working with Alex tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yeah. And I guess if I go there in the morning I might be able to get drum kit access." In that respect, Finn's 'home' wasn't all that portable.

"If you can't we'll change things. You'll need to have your band rehearsal as planned anyway. And it's not like you being at your apartment is a problem, just if it's both of us all the time, or overnight."

"If I didn't know better I'd think this was Santana splitting us up yet again," Finn grumbled, and Rachel giggled.

"Well we do know better. And she knows better now too. I'll do some girl bonding with them, you can help Blaine not get overwhelmed by Kurt. I'm sure at least one of the TV channels we get has sports on it somewhere."

"Thank you for that cliche," Finn protested, though it might not be that bad an idea. Rachel and Kurt did have a nice high-definition TV, that resolution was wasted on old movies.

"Sorry."

"Hold on, does that mean I'm going to be there when they -?" Finn cringed. He suddenly vowed to do his best to be out as much as possible.

"The whole thing is contingent on borrowing Kurt's noise-cancelling headphones. Since it's clear he doesn't hear us when he's using them, you should be fine."

"Okay."

"By the end of the week I expect they will be very appreciative. And I will have missed you very much. Even if I see you at NYADA or when you drop by your place."

"Guess we make some new plans then."

"Oh yes," she answered, her voice a seductive purr.

They both hung up and checked with their respective roommates and the visitors, who were all amenable or at the very least were able to be convinced that this was the least awful option for the group as a whole.

* * *

Finn spent a lot of Monday at NYADA, though unfortunately he only saw Rachel once in passing. Alex had no trouble giving him access to one of the small music rooms for him to practice in, even after Finn admitted that it wasn't just to work on Alex's stuff; the band was back to their Thursday gigs so he needed to practice some of their material more seriously before the full band got together the next evening at his place.

He checked the arrangements that night on the phone with Rachel, and yes, she and Santana and Brittany were doing a girls' night out for Tuesday, leaving his apartment clear for the band. In turn that meant Kurt and Blaine could have the complete run of the other apartment until late. _Not bad when we're basically one place short for all that's going on,_ he thought.

"How's it going so far with Brittany there?" he asked.

"Well luckily I'm ahead on my schoolwork so we've been able to hang out. Santana had the dinner shift at work, so Brittany and I ate there and then came back here."

_Luckily, huh?_ Finn thought. _Because you worked ahead so we could have time together._ He bit back the comment, though, since this situation certainly hadn't been Rachel's decision. "So it was just you and Brittany for a while?"

"Yes. We talked a little, but you know what that's like, so we ended up helping each other on things. She gave me some advice on my dance routines, and then once Santana came back we both helped Brittany with an essay she has to do for school."

He could see Brittany being help when it came to dance, but he didn't envy Rachel trying to get Brittany to write anything. "An essay? That sounds difficult to get her to do. There's a reason her GPA was so low last year."

"Because she didn't bother trying to do her work, not that she can't," Rachel answered. "She had already written most of the essay, and the ideas in it are pretty good, though very unusual in her own Brittany way," she went on. "She just doesn't like to deal with the formalities."

"Grammar, spelling, writing in something other than crayon..." Finn liked Brittany, however, so he didn't mean to pick on her. She just had a very different though usually sweet way of looking at the world.

"Well yes. I found it easier to deal with if I considered it simply part of her artistic self-expression, which I suppose it is. So Santana and I managed to persuade her that the original essay still existed as that expression, she could hang it in public or present it on her show, but that the teacher needed to be humored as one would a child." She laughed. "An overly serious child who doesn't like crayon."

"Wow. Did that work?"

"Well she typed it up and fixed the spelling, even though she thinks that's ridiculous. And considered like that she may even be right. But she wants to make Santana happy, and she knows she can't be part of that unless she graduates, so for now she's willing to humor the teachers if it can get her what she wants."

"_Can_ it get her what she wants?" Did she and Santana look like they were getting back together, he meant.

"Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic, but I think so. Santana seemed a lot more relaxed tonight, and we're going to do the girls' night thing tomorrow. There's no quick fixes in this world, but they're reconnecting."

"Kind of like us, huh?" Finn asked softly. Though as the one who originally hadn't done what it took to keep up, that made him like Brittany, not Santana.

"Yes." She sighed, but sounded happy.

"You're not a hopeless romantic," he stated. "There's nothing hopeless about it at all."

"I love you."

"I love you too." He paused, listening to her breathe. "How's sleeping in my bed?"

"It's comfortable enough but it leaves a lot to be desired."

"Really?" He hadn't heard any complaints from her before.

"Of course. There's a certain six-foot-three drummer missing from it. I can tell."

"Well there's a certain shining star missing from yours." He heard her giggle. "But it smells like you, and I had a seriously awesome dream last night." Though he'd managed to stop himself from having to do laundry, so far.

"Sounds like your dream and my dream should get together sometime." Rachel's voice slowed, and he could feel the longing in it. "How are the boys treating you?"

"Kind of like I'm not here, but that's okay, the headphones work. And Kurt still has to work tomorrow, so Blaine and I are going to have some guy time. We found a few sports channels," he teased.

"I knew you could." She yawned. "I should go to sleep."

"Sleep well, angel, I love you."

"You were going to tell me about that," she reminded him. "Something Sam told you, you said?"

"Oh, 'angel'? Yeah." Finn chuckled sheepishly. "You're going to think this is really corny."

"Corny looks good on you," she answered, cajoling. "Tell me."

"This was sometime last year, he was actually talking about Superman."

"And that reminded you of me?" Rachel was clearly puzzled.

"Sure. He was saying about how Superman was supposed to be an angel, since he had an angel name, something ending in 'el'. Like Michael and Gabriel, he said, but of course I thought of you."

Rachel giggled softly. "That's sweet, Finn. There isn't an angel Rachel, though."

"Sure there is, there's _you_." He paused, but got no response initially. "See, I told you you'd think it was corny."

"Only a particularly wonderful and sweet kind of corny," she murmured. "I love you."

"I love you too. Goodnight."

* * *

Finn worked late at the diner Wednesday evening, then snuck quietly into Rachel and Kurt's dark apartment, noting by the shoes at the door that Kurt and Blaine seemed to be back. Hopefully they'd done whatever they were going to do for now so he wouldn't be disturbed. The next night was the band's gig, so he'd have to be back at his own place that night anyway with his drums, and if Rachel was still staying there he would join her. He figured it would be just his luck for her to be back here by then though, Brittany wasn't supposed to stay for the full week.

He stole into Rachel's room, closed the door, and put on the light... then stared at the bed where his brunette girlfriend turned over and stretched.

"Hey there," she said sleepily.

"Hi." Finn took in her bare shoulders emerging from under the sheet - was she naked under there? Topless, definitely. His blood rushed south. _I fell asleep on the subway and I'm dreaming. Got to be._

"Brittany went home this evening, and after we saw her off at the train station Santana said she wanted some time alone to think, so I came straight here." She leaned up for a kiss as Finn sat down on the edge of the bed. "Mmmm. I could have texted but I wanted to surprise you."

He kissed her hungrily, liking this kind of surprise very much. His hand touched her bare back. "You're not wearing anything," he commented. _Not that that's a complaint, oh no._

"My stuff's still at your place."

"Most of your stuff is right here," he murmured, kissing her neck, his hand stroking down her back to find - _yeah, she's not wearing anything **at all**. Real, dream, doesn't matter._

She pulled back so she could meet his eyes. "Do you want me to put clothes on?"

"No."

"Good. Because there are already too many clothes being worn in this room." The look she gave him was scorching. "I have missed you very much."

Finn grinned and stood, starting to strip down. "We did see each other this morning," he noted, just to spin things out; dream or not, he liked to hear her say things that showed how much she wanted him.

Rachel pouted. "A few stolen kisses in the halls at NYADA."

His clothes shed, Finn slid under the sheet next to Rachel. "I know. It just tided me over too. Do Kurt and Blaine know you're here?"

She looped her arms around his neck. "I doubt it. I got in a little before they did, and nothing that I heard suggested that they had the slightest idea anybody else was around." She gave a soft moan as Finn renewed his attention to her neck.

"Well they'd better not think _I_ brought someone else back," Finn joked quietly, still breathing on her skin. "And it'll be okay with all four of us here?"

"If they want the rest of the apartment they can have it," Rachel whispered, one hand in his hair, the other splayed on his back, her body pressed to his. "As far as I'm concerned right now the world ends at my bedroom door."

* * *

_* "Woman in Love", as performed by Barbra Streisand, written by Barry and Robin Gibb._

* * *

_Please review!_


	28. Epiphany

_A/N: In case you missed it over the holidays: I posted a separate oneshot story, intended as a Christmas present for Finchel fans. It's on my author page, as usual._

* * *

Finn and Rachel's respective work continued to intensify through the end of March and into April. After their talk about the problem drum sequence, Finn found Alex asking him more questions about the feasibility of the drum parts he was composing; the composer seemed to be really trying to learn about what things could work on the drums and what couldn't, the better for him to come up with creative possibilities, Finn figured, and Finn liked how things were going with that even though he still wasn't sure where things were going for him long-term.

Finn was feeling _respected_. Here he was, working for this big deal composer, and the dude actually seemed to care what he thought (about the things that Finn knew about) and his expertise. Okay, so basically his expertise was about what an ordinary drummer could play, but still. And being treated like a professional was making him feel more and more like he actually was one. He also enjoyed the times he worked at NYADA, everyone there was doing something with music or acting or whatever, it was cool.

However, even though he enjoyed working for Alex, being a hired gun had its limitations, he had to stick exactly to what Alex wanted. And the composer was always trying stuff out and changing things, with some things that Finn really liked not sticking around. It was the dude's choice, of course. But sometimes as Finn looked at all the students intensely involved in their own rehearsals, all focused on both their current part and also what it was preparing them for, he had to wonder where this was going for him. He still had the band... but that had built-in limitations as well.

Meanwhile, juggling working for Alex, and the band, and his shifts at the diner made him increasingly busy. Everything was heating up at NYADA as the end-of-term was coming; recitals, musicals, everything was full steam ahead. Rehearsal rooms were filling up, leading Alex to schedule work in some evenings, though that was okay for Finn since he could pick up diner shifts during the day and spend the night with Rachel once he was done. She, too, was extremely busy, so he was glad at least some of what he was doing had him close to her. A few times she was even available for a quick supper before their respective evening schedules, and he enjoyed every minute that he could spend with her, talking, listening, or just _being_ with Rachel.

Their relationship felt really secure and solid, despite Finn still having uncertainty about his future. Whatever happened, though, he knew he couldn't let the other stuff get to him and affect how he treated Rachel, especially seeing the mess that a split and trying to move on had brought to Santana. At least that was starting to get resolved, sort of.

After reconnecting with Brittany during her visit, Santana was now talking to her regularly on Skype and had broken things off with Natalie. The artist was still friendly and had insisted on still having Santana model for her; she had apparently worked through some of her emotions this way, and one completed painting of Santana as a femme fatale had found a place in the gallery exhibition of the art collective Natalie belonged to.

"Natalie invited me to the opening next week and the rest of you can come if you like," Santana announced to the others at one of their rare times all together, one Sunday for brunch at the John's Place diner.

"How does it look?" Rachel asked.

"The painting? It's good, I guess. I look kind of cruel in it, but hey I don't mind. I'm doing another sitting on Friday since she wants to expand it into a series."

"Sure she isn't exploiting your guilt to get a model for free?" Kurt asked pointedly.

"Kurt!" Rachel protested.

"No, seriously," Kurt went on. "You'd normally charge anyone else for modeling, wouldn't you?"

Santana sighed. "Well, maybe. But she did take the whole thing with Brittany really well, and I figure at this stage it's good publicity for me. It's not like I have anyone else wanting to pay, so who knows, maybe some day some agent or casting director will see the painting and things will go from there."

"Did it seem strange, modeling for her?" Rachel asked. "Since you used to be involved."

"You mean was it weird taking my clothes off in front of my ex again?" Santana teased, then laughed as Finn cringed. "Oh relax, you can't see anything explicit in the picture. And yes it was awkward at first, but hey maybe that's what she wanted most from me in the first place, a model. I just told myself she'd seen it already, and obviously had liked what she saw. And she didn't try anything, she was very professional. Almost disappointing since I'd planned something clever and devastating to say if she did."

"You're sure nothing's showing?" Finn asked, which caused Kurt to roll his eyes. "What? Look, we have a no-naked-roommate rule at our place, and as far as I'm concerned that goes for pictures too. Some lines are not meant to be crossed."

"How'd you get that rule set up?" Kurt asked Santana. "I had to give him a bathrobe before he'd remember to cover up fully at our place."

Santana shrugged. "I told him anything I could easily see from a common area would be subject to mockery, and I was okay with acting likewise. Neither of us want to see or be seen, so it's not a problem."

Kurt turned to Finn with narrowed eyes.

"I don't know what you're complaining about, dude, you haven't seen me naked either. Even back when you wanted to." Finn snorted as Kurt turned red. He only rarely reminded his stepbrother of that old inappropriate crush, they were long past any uncomfortableness from that, but it could still be dusted off if needed to get Kurt to back off. Brothers always had old stuff they needled each other about, theirs was just really unusual. "But thanks for the bathrobe."

"And our no-entering-without-explicit-permission rule works perfectly well," Rachel chimed in. "Whether you think anyone is in my room or _not_."

Santana laughed. "You mean you two can actually be quiet?" she teased, spreading the embarrassment around.

"Everyone sleeps sometime," Rachel retorted with a small toss of her head. "And the rule also protects my clothes from unauthorized raids by the fashion police."

"It was _once_. And I had to intervene, I couldn't risk being seen with you wearing that sweater again," Kurt stated dramatically, but did join in with the others' laughter at this.

"Well, anyway, you will not see anything you're not supposed to in the picture," Santana said, coming back from the diversions, "And I hope you'll all be able to come to the opening, I know everything's busy but it would be great to have people there who know the real me not just the painted me."

The others nodded, but Rachel demurred a bit. "I'll do my best," she said. "But it may have to be just an appearance at the end, if I can manage that, we have a full run-through for the musical that night." She did her best to look encouraging. "Since I'm not in the whole thing I shouldn't be too tired."

Santana pouted briefly, but appeared mollified. "Yeah sure, I get it. Nothing you can do, right? Though I'm still surprised you picked that one over the other, I'd never have thought I'd see Rachel Berry passing up a starring role in favor of a supporting one."

"_Featured_, Santana," Rachel corrected. "Not supporting. It's an award-winning role. And I've explained why, it's a much more prominent production. Everyone will be there to see the male lead -"

"Except us," Finn put in, and was rewarded by a smile from Rachel before she continued.

"It's an open secret that _Pal Joey_ was picked to showcase Derek Torerra as he graduates to take Broadway by storm, but I intend to steal every scene I'm in, and the part allows for it."

"Gladys is a scene-stealer all right," Kurt commented. "The vocals aren't usually up to your quality, however."

"Then she'll blow them away even more," Finn said, and he couldn't help but look adoringly at Rachel as he did. She blushed prettily at the compliment and his look, snuggling into his side. He was quite familiar with her reasoning, since he had been her sounding board as she made her decision; he was still impressed by her choice, going for something better long-term as well as wanting to show range and team-player ability, and he was sure that the big senior star was not going to be the focus of the Broadway bigwigs in attendance for long. And yes Kurt still appeared a bit irked at not being consulted, but Finn was glad that his had been the only support Rachel had looked for, and that she was happy with the decision he'd helped her make. It felt... like that was how it was supposed to be.

He'd be a lot happier, though, if he could see more of where things were going for himself. The others, they all had things they were working toward, maybe not all big steps like Rachel was working for but they were making progress and had hopes. Finn himself - well he liked working with Alex, but he wasn't sure how that was going to lead to anything different or bigger, and while the band was going strong (with more money negotiated by Irene since turnout had noticeably increased) it was getting pretty close to its ceiling. He wanted more, even though he wasn't sure quite what.

_Dumbass_, Finn told himself. _Last summer I didn't think I'd have any of this, I need to stop thinking things are going nowhere._ But around the others with all their ambitions and focus, his internal pep talk was falling flat.

* * *

The next Tuesday night Finn was working with Alex again. They started out with Finn trying the new drum parts, Alex watching him intently as he played, getting a feel for drumming movements, occasionally closing his eyes.

"The breakdown changes how it feels," Alex muttered as Finn finished, nodding to himself. He raised his head to meet Finn's inquiring look. "How you split that sequence into phrases, it changes how it feels." He nodded. "Interesting."

'Interesting' from Alex usually meant he was filing the information away to use it at some later time. Finn expected that he'd get more phrasing information, in future.

They moved on, Alex starting playback of a song he'd been working on for a while, Finn trying the new changes in the drum part. Alex seemed dissatisfied as it finished, though.

"I don't know," the composer said, shaking his head. Finn thought it sounded great, but didn't want to interfere. "I like it, but I don't think it's working for what I meant it for."

"What did you mean it for?"

"Well it was supposed to be a song for the female lead," Alex stated. He leaned back in his chair, looking upward, with the attitude Finn had learned meant Alex was thinking aloud. "There's something off, it's just not working for that... the wrong attitude or edge or something." He sighed. "I could keep it around for something else, I guess, but then half the motifs are probably wrong... _damn_." The composer was frowning, clearly dissatisfied and tense, frustrated with the song and with himself. From the sound of it all the work on the song was close to going down the drain. And it did sound good, Finn really liked the piece.

"But you always like to hear things live," Finn put in, inspiration striking. That was why he was there, after all, Alex always said he felt music much better, more authentically, when it was live, and he hadn't heard this one properly at all yet. "Have you heard a girl sing it?"

"I don't have the lyrics fully worked out yet." Alex still shook his head. "It just doesn't feel right. I don't know, maybe I should wait," he mused, thinking aloud again, "But that's a long time to let this sit... unless I could just throw something together... Hmm." He broke from his thoughts and looked at Finn again. "I suppose you're thinking of your girlfriend," he said.

"Yeah," Finn admitted. "She's really busy right now with the musical and recital, but I know she'd help when she could, and Rachel can sing anything."

"She's got an amazing voice, don't get me wrong," Alex replied, "but this isn't the usual Broadway or power ballad stuff."

"That's just what you've heard her do. And it would be for a test, right, to see if the song works the way you want it to, or help you figure out what you need to change, like what I've been doing drumming." Finn didn't mean to push, but why not get Rachel involved, or at least give it a try to help the song. Plus things did sound different when Rachel sang them, usually much better, and who knows where this might lead for her. He got up from the drums and grabbed his bag, digging out his iPod. "She really can sing stuff like this," he said. "Want to hear?"

Alex shrugged and nodded towards the sound system. "Can't hurt. I'd like to save the song if I can, but nobody around here has any time for the next few weeks and I can't just wait."

"Yeah, sure." Finn plugged his player into the mixer's input jack and tried to quickly pick something suitable. Unfortunately most of what he had recorded of Rachel was what Alex had been dismissive about, Broadway songs and power ballads, and even the other songs were usually normally done by women. He needed something crossover, upbeat... he glanced over at Alex's expectant but not very patient look, and went for the first obvious one he saw.

"Okay half of this is me singing, and there are some others," he told the waiting composer. "But you should be able to get an idea of how well she does on eighties classic rock, enough to know if it's worth trying out the song." He pressed play, and listened to first himself and then Rachel sing "Don't Stop Believing" with the rest of New Directions, a recording they'd made just before their first Regionals. The actual competition performance had been better, but he still liked the window into their past that this gave, and he could feel Rachel's happiness as well as remember his own.

By the end Alex was standing next to him, and Finn turned to take in his reaction. He seemed less tense than he'd been not that long before.

"I guess it's worth a try, to listen to it sung," the composer said, still sounding reluctant. "I could shelve the song for now and work on the music for the other plotline in the first act, since it's not connected. Good arrangement," he commented.

"Thanks," Finn said absently, scrolling through his iPod to see if there was something else suitable. He was stopped by Alex's hand on his arm.

"Hold on," the composer said. "That was _your_ arrangement?"

Finn looked up with a little trepidation. "Uh, yeah. Basically mine, I did it originally the fall before and our teacher worked on it a little before Regionals." He waited, not able to interpret the older man's facial expression. "What is it?" he asked finally.

"You were how old? You're nineteen now, this was a few years ago... sixteen?"

"Almost sixteen..."

"_Fifteen._ How long had you been singing?"

"Like, officially?"

"With a choir."

"About three weeks."

"Three -" Alex looked at him dumbfoundedly. "You're kidding."

"Uh, no."

"Can you please play it again?" He sat in one of the chairs by the mixing board, and Finn joined him.

Finn hit 'replay' and watched the other man as he listened, more intently this time. _Is this a big deal?_ He wondered._ I just kind of did it, I had the sheet music and stripped the song down, put in some background vocals for the instrumentation and added a little harmony with Rachel... who I hadn't sung with much yet, then... holy shit, how the hell did I do that?_

Alex's expression was an intent half-frown, nothing he could get from that except that the man was considering things. They listened to the whole thing again.

"The ending, that was Mr. Schue, our teacher, who figured that out," Finn said once it had finished.

"Standard power vocal ending," Alex commented. "So the rest was basically your work?"

"Yeah." Finn waited for more, getting nervous.

"On three weeks experience with choir singing, and with those people." Alex sighed. "That lyric syncopation, that I get, you're a drummer. But the rest? The harmonies? Okay they're not complicated, but the fact that you did them at all, any time there were multiple voices, when most of that stuff is normally done in unison, _Rock of Ages_ didn't do anything like this with this song and anyway this was before that was big..." He trailed off. "You ever do anything else like this? Once you had been at it for longer?"

"Arranging? Just short-term stuff, with the club. We sang really often, group numbers and duets, a bit of planning and rehearsal." He thought for a moment. "I guess a lot of the ones I did, when we did mashup contests and stuff like that, I arranged a lot of those," he said. They hadn't recorded any of them, though he might still have his notes somewhere. There had been "You Can't Always Get What You Want", the number they'd thrown together for that first Sectionals - was this why he'd been able to do that so quickly? "And sometimes I just made it up as I went along, harmonizing with Rachel or whoever was singing. Rachel and I did a bit of that at a party last Christmas, we just know what to do when we sing together. I've also done a bit for the band." Alex nodded to him, and he continued. "Well, and there's the song I wrote for Nationals, that was the next year after those Regionals."

"You -" Alex stared, and swallowed. "You wrote a song and performed it at show choir Nationals," he said, carefully controlled.

"Yeah. I wrote a duet to sing with Rachel. We wrote our own stuff for those Nationals and Regionals before it."

"How'd it go?"

"Twelfth place that year."

"_The song._"

"It - it was good." Hard to explain everything that had happened with that song, he should probably just give the guy the link to it on YouTube and prepare to be embarrassed again. "It sounded really good, I think, I was, uh, kind of in the moment." He reddened. "Make that _massively_ in the moment. We both were, too much, we got out of control at the end. Not musically, just -" He saw Alex's raised eyebrow. "Just, uh, we'd been broken up, and I wrote it to convince her to get back together, and..."

"And it worked," Alex finished for him, nodding.

"Yeah." Finn grinned. "It worked _really_ well." Their voices working together again, after so long without singing duets, on the words and harmonies he'd written - knowing what they knew now, about how their voices touched, it actually made a lot of sense that they'd crossed from the musical to the physical at the end of it. Neither of them had been prepared for how it had made them feel.

"Well that's the important part. And it brought you here, eventually, so that's good." The composer sighed and shook his head. "But that arrangement -" he dropped his head into his hands. "This is why we need better music education in schools," he muttered.

"But I thought you liked the arrangement." The whole thing had Finn confused.

"Oh, it's good, especially for that sort of thing. Just... _Finn_." Alex looked over at him very seriously. "Fifteen, no formal music training, and very limited experience with how harmonies work since you're a drummer and you hadn't been singing with others for long. How the hell did it not occur to anybody in your school that you had a gift for this? Your teacher, _anybody?_"

Finn was stunned. He'd never thought about what he'd done as being exceptional, he'd basically done the arrangement because he had needed to. And the other stuff, even with the band and working on their setlists, he'd just done it by feel, going with what seemed like it should work right. "Well, when we first set up that piece our teacher wasn't really around," he tried to explain. "That's why I ended up doing it, we were trying to keep going without him at the time."

"But you said he worked on it a bit, later. He didn't see the significance of your work?"

"Um... I guess not." But he couldn't blame Mr. Schue, no way, he wouldn't have even been singing without him. "I don't remember really talking to him about it," he said. "But I wouldn't have been involved with Glee if it hadn't been for him, he really encouraged and supported me even though this was just something he did on the side at the time. He usually taught Spanish, then." Shelby Corcoran might have noticed, she had massive experience with that stuff, but she wouldn't have known he'd done that arrangement, and she'd been very preoccupied with her personal issues. And if she had approached him about anything, with her being Rachel's birth mother, it would have been too weird.

Alex frowned, but shrugged in acceptance. "Okay, I suppose," he said. "There aren't many specialist music teachers in high schools these days. But wasn't there _someone_ around with the musical background to notice what you had, your instinctive talent for music and harmony, and encourage you to develop it?"

_My - what? I have that? I - wow._

Alex shook his head. "It's frustrating, it makes me think of how much talent is out there where the connection isn't made. Half the kids here made it this far more because they had exposure and encouragement than being exceptionally talented, you know. There's lots of talent out there that simply never comes across anyone with the right background to recognize it, or even gets into a music class because there are so few left." He looked back at Finn, who was sitting there shocked, having realized who that someone had been. "Finn? You okay?"

"There was someone," Finn said quietly, shaking his head at his own long-term stupidity. "Someone who always said I was very talented." _I just didn't believe her. God. Sorry, Rach._

"Well he or she should have referred you to someone in a music program," Alex commented.

"She wasn't a teacher." _And I really don't think I'd've gone. I just - shit, way back then, I thought she was being pushy. Or that it was because she was after me. And then once we were together, that she just wanted me with her._

"_Oh._" Alex gave a small smile, understanding. "Five-two, great voice, killer smile."

"Yep."

"And you figured she was blowing smoke up your ass because she was sweet on you." He waited, and Finn nodded. "When did you finally realize she was telling the truth?"

"Uh... kind of _now_," Finn admitted. "Not that I thought she was lying, just..." He groaned. "I thought it was only because of _us_, not because of _me_. If that makes any sense. Damn."

Alex chuckled. "Hey, look on the bright side," he said. "You're here now, so even if you didn't entirely believe her you still followed up on what you can do. You're with the person who inspires you to do it. And, my frustrations with wasted time and missed connections aside, you're still only nineteen. If you want to get more into writing and arranging, you can, and you've got plenty of time left to do it." He rose, and clapped Finn on the shoulder. "We can talk about this more in a few days, take some time to think about it, I will too."

Think about it. And make one hell of an apology to the person who'd always believed in him more than he did himself.

* * *

Finn took the subway the few stops along to Rachel and Kurt's place, his mind picking through his talk with the composer and what it meant. Alex had been so insistent about his musical talent, that he could do the same sort of things that Alex himself did. And when Finn thought back to the times he'd arranged or written music, the fact that he'd done it without having training or even much previous practice was actually kind of mindblowing.

_How did I not know it was special?_ Finn knew he loved music, he'd enjoyed doing the arranging and the other stuff, he'd just done what he felt was right and put together things that seemed to fit together. He'd never thought about whether other people could do it too, not when he was stepping up to do it himself. The song he'd written, "Pretending" - well Rachel had written a song first, and they'd done the group numbers with Mr. Schue helping, but of course Rachel had a lot more musical training than he had. He had had no way of knowing that what he was doing was at all out of the ordinary.

_Why didn't Rachel tell me it was that big a deal?_

He gave himself a mental thwack for even thinking such a thing. _What, she should have pushed me **more**? Actually crawled under my bed like I thought she might? She told me I was talented and encouraged me all the time, even when we weren't together. She kept telling me I could do things with music, be in the musical or go to college with her if I tried. It's not like she could make me do something about it. And that music wasn't her sort of thing, she wouldn't really know whether what I'd done was a big deal or not. Mr. Schue should have..._ He cut his thoughts off again shaking his head.

_Mr. Schue got me involved as much as he could and even that took blackmail. And if he had thought of sending me to talk to someone else, I wouldn't have gone, it was way too far outside what I knew._

_It's just one of those things, I guess. Like Alex said, we're here now and that's what matters._ He'd enjoyed the arranging he'd done, getting things to work the way he thought they could, and of course his songwriting had massively paid off. He did want to do more, much more, and with the composer telling him he could, that he had a talent for it...

_Holy shit, I might actually have something in this._

* * *

Rachel was lying on her bed listening to music when she felt someone was there, and she turned over to see Finn leaning against the door frame, his face unreadable.

She pulled her headphones off and quickly went to him. "Finn...? What is it?" Closer now, she could read almost too many things on his face, wonder and pain and guilt, all together. She tugged at his hand, wanting him to come in and sit with her on her bed, but he stayed standing. He did grab her hand, however, and held it tightly.

Finn swallowed, glancing momentarily down at the floor, then back at her. "I didn't believe you," he said finally, his voice choked up. Rachel was confused; she had no idea what he was talking about. "I wanted to, I really did, it just didn't make sense so I didn't, and every stupid thing I did in the last year and a half or more is because I didn't believe you and I'm so sorry..." He clenched her hand tightly, and she could see the tension, that tightness, mirrored in every part of his frame and face.

"You didn't believe me on what?" Rachel asked softly, not wanting to push, but she was concerned. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes. God yes. And I love you, so very much, Rachel... my angel..." He leaned down to wrap himself around her, holding her securely between his arms and chest, his head nestling into her neck. He breathed deeply, and she could feel his tension start to fall away as he embraced her.

"Then what? That's what's really important," she said, still trying to figure out what had come over Finn. He was acting like he'd had some sort of revelation he was having trouble taking in. Not necessarily a bad one, he wasn't mad, just overwhelmed. She stroked his back, wanting to comfort him and ease whatever it was that he was dealing with. "Weren't you working with Alex tonight?"

Finn straightened. "Yeah." He loosened his arms around Rachel and let her lead him over to her bed. "It's going pretty well."

"So...?" Rachel prompted as they sat, turned toward each other, their knees touching.

"There's one song he's not sure works the way he wants it to, and he was talking about it, just thinking aloud almost. I think he likes to have someone to talk things out with when he's working on ideas."

"It can be helpful." She chuckled. "I'm sure at least half the things I used to talk to you about when it came to plans for Glee Club were like that."

"And I didn't listen."

"You didn't need to always listen, I knew you were there. Sometimes I just need to talk, you know that."

"No... I didn't listen to something important. And I am so sorry, Rach, I am." He exhaled. "So Alex had this problem with a song, he likes it but it's supposed to be for the female lead and he was trying to talk through what wasn't working about it, he couldn't really be sure. But he likes to listen to stuff live, and he hasn't heard it sung, so I suggested maybe he could get you to sing it, he wasn't sure it was your sort of thing, so... I played him 'Don't Stop Believing', from our Regionals set."

Rachel waited for a moment, but it seemed as if Finn had stopped talking for now. "Did he like it?" _Or me?_ she thought briefly, but no, whatever was going on wasn't that.

"He liked it..." Finn swallowed, then raised his head to meet Rachel's eyes. "He liked the arrangement, Rach."

A smile started to form on her lips. "Your arrangement. Mr. Schue made a few changes but the style and the details are yours, from when we did it before. Even our harmonies."

"Yeah." Finn started to smile too, a smile that seemed to spread out from within himself. He was overwhelmed, but she could tell now that part of what was overwhelming him was joy. "And then he found out I'd done it, and when I'd done it, just after I started Glee, and then... he went a little nuts."

"Nuts?"

"Yeah. Going on about how this showed why there needed to be better music education, more exposure and talent scouts and stuff, that, uh, a kid who'd been in a choir for all of three weeks could do that..."

She beamed at him. "I told you you were very talented."

"And I didn't believe you, and I am so very sorry, Rach. Like you said, you should know."

_So that's what this is,_ Rachel thought. _He's finally - oh, he's finally seeing it. How special, how talented he is._ She lowered her eyes, choked up with hope, looking at their joined hands. She breathed for a moment, trying not to get too excited, too far ahead of what Finn was feeling. But this, this was huge, this could be what she'd always looked for, Finn finally touching what she had always somehow known was in him. "A fourteen-year-old girl with limited social skills doesn't make an effective talent scout," she admitted. "Especially not when it comes to the most popular boy in school. I didn't really understand what you'd done either, not then. Back then I just knew that it was so wonderful to sing with you." She looked back up at him, smiling again. "It always was and it still is. And I could just listen to you, too, and there really aren't all that many singers I'd be content to simply listen to."

"I'm honored." He started to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I knew you had something. I wasn't sure what, though. But your song - did you tell him about 'Pretending'?"

"I sent him the link once we were done."

"And is that something you think you'd like to do more of?"

"Arranging? Yeah, I could give it a shot. I'd like to. Writing, too." He exhaled. "I don't know, it's pretty mindblowing, and he just heard the one song, it seems really soon to go crazy about it."

"You've been working with him for weeks, and he's heard you with the band, I'm sure he's basing his judgement on more than just that one arrangement," Rachel insisted. "That's just what made it all fall into place, made him really notice." For someone in the music establishment, someone with authority, to finally realize that Finn was special - joy was bubbling up in her now too, to know that this had finally happened, that Finn's talent was being acknowledged and could be nurtured. Ad that he finally saw it himself.

"I guess. He was really blown away about the harmony - said he wouldn't expect that from a drummer, not without more experience with music. Non-drumming music."

Rachel looked thoughtful. "That's true. I'm sorry to admit that didn't occur to me, at the time."

"Hey, how were you to know? And you knew so much. Even if you didn't know what you saw in me, you saw it." He rubbed his hand over his face. "God, this is terrifying. But a good terrifying. Like when we were about to start 'Faithfully' and I knew, it was just so clear. Me being that sure about anything is so rare I don't know how to deal with it, even harder then, but... I knew then what I wanted, what was true, and I know now."

"You want this?"

"I want this. I even think I can do it. God." He exhaled and then took a deep breath, looking at her. "I still know what I knew back then, too, I love you. All the more because I wouldn't have any of this other stuff, the music, without you. And you always believed I could, I'm only starting to believe it now."

Rachel had tears come to her eyes as she listened to Finn's effusion, so happy to hear and know that he'd found that part of himself, that who he was was coming through so clearly. "I love you," she said. "And it's so wonderful to see you like this."

He clenched her hand. "Forgive me, please? For not believing you when you believed in me?"

"Of course. And you have to be forgiven for thinking that I had ulterior motives," she said seriously, then gave a little giggle. "Since I did have ulterior motives. It's not like I was purely interested in your voice and musical talents, far from it. But I wasn't delusional, and though admittedly I'm biased I wouldn't knowingly compromise my musical judgement."

"I know," Finn said. "I really am sorry though, I guess I just thought it was more about what you wanted me to be able to do or hoped I could do than what I really could do. Or even later, that it had more to do with _us_, that you responded to me more because of what we have than because what I was doing was good. Than that other people would like it too." He grinned. "Not that I mind doing stuff that's just for you to like."

"And now?"

"Now - it's weird thinking that I can really do that, that even without the kind of training that you've had there's something there, something special that I can do something with. I don't know, I guess I just didn't know enough to recognize it. That's sort of what Alex said."

"I've always known you were special. Not just to me, either." She closed in for a tender kiss. "Though especially to me."

Finn kissed her back, then took her hands and looked at her seriously. "So what should I do now?" he asked.

"Didn't Alex say?"

"He said I should think about it and we can talk more at our next session. But at this point he seems more frustrated that he didn't find me three years ago, and he's got his own stuff that we're working on." He squeezed her hands. "You know me," he said, not meaning better or best but simply innately, inside and out. "What should I do?"

Rachel thought for a moment. "Learn some music theory," she said. "It's dry, but you already have the feel for it so you should be able to relate to it. You've written by ear before, you can learn why things work or not and understand your instincts better." She smiled. "And write," she said. "That's what prose writers tell people who ask them how to be a writer - writers write. You don't have to make it a major career choice yet, you can just do it and see how it goes. Look into colleges for the fall, there are excellent music programs, Alex could help you with that. Work on arrangements for the band, if you have ideas," she continued. "You said Daryl's much more open to input now, right? And Scott wants to work on things too, so there's that if you want it. Any of it, even all of it."

Finn nodded. "Yeah. I definitely want to keep performing too."

"You should, you're magnetic, and you come so alive on stage. It also helps you tap into your instincts, the way you adapt when you sing has always been extraordinary. You know what works, you always have."

"I guess now I know I know it." He swallowed. "If I write something - _when_ I write something - will you sing it?" he asked hesitatingly. "For me, with me?"

"Of course." She gave him a tender smile. "Wild horses couldn't stop me from singing with you."

"I know it's a crutch, the other ones were for you and me too, but if I'm going to get into this..."

"It makes sense to start with how you've done it before," she completed. "And every composer has a favorite instrument, you don't need to be reluctant about that."

He moved a hand to touch her knee. "I wouldn't exactly think of you as 'my instrument'."

Rachel leaned close. "You don't like coaxing sounds from me? I thought you did," she teased, then giggled as he blushed. "You're a virtuoso. Though we'll keep those concerts private."

He grinned, happy, and she could feel his tension gone. What remained was a sureness, Finn coming into his own at last, content for now to simply enjoy the insight into himself and his future possibilities. "I'm so grateful for you," he said, softly. "For what you've done, believing in me and encouraging me, but more than anything that you're here with me for all of it. Back then, for going along with it when I just showed up and said I'd do the music, and every time since then." He stroked down from her shoulder to bring his hand to the small of her back.

"'Don't Stop Believing' was a key step for me too, you know," she responded, relaxing into his arm around her. "Not just because of how I felt, singing with you, but - it was the first time I wasn't really imitating. I wasn't singing something the way I'd heard it."

"Well it wasn't the sort of thing you'd been doing before."

"Yes, and that was important, all the different things we did in Glee stretched me musically, but it was so much more than that. Your arrangement, that it had been rearranged and had those harmonies, it meant I didn't have something to copy, I had to put in my own expression. I wasn't singing as if I was Barbra Streisand or Patti LuPone or Celine Dion, or playing some character I'd seen like Fanny Brice or Evita, I was singing as Rachel Berry. Me." She smiled up at him softly. "And once I started, I found that Rachel Berry had a lot to sing about." She shifted on the bed, turning to face him more fully. "What I'm saying is, even with my experience, I started finding _myself_ musically right then too, at the same time you did, and it was thanks to you."

"Really?" Finn looked at Rachel, wonder and love in his face and voice, and she nodded. "I never thought about it like that."

"I didn't either, not without connecting it all up. But when I look back, you've always been the one who helped me find my voice. Music brought me you, and together you and music brought me _me_."

"The one and only Rachel Berry."

Rachel blushed. "Yes." She moved closer, putting her arm around his neck. "Right where she found herself and where she should be, with the one and only Finn Hudson."

_Forget about needing to grow apart,_ she thought. _We're meant to grow **together**. We grow best together. Now we can._

* * *

_Please review!  
_


	29. The 'Us' in Team

NYADA's production of _Pal Joey_ was one night only, a Saturday night, in the largest auditorium the college had. As expected, it was completely sold out, all the buzz about the male lead convincing anyone who was anyone in New York theater circles to get a ticket if they could. Rachel had been able to get four tickets in the tenth row, and Santana had only been half joking when she'd said she was tempted to scalp hers to help with the rent.

Finn sat in the middle of them, with Kurt and Sean on his left and Santana on his right; ultimately he only had eyes for Rachel, every moment she was on stage, and 'blown away' didn't come close to covering how he felt, watching her.

Because it wasn't her. Sure the girl on stage looked superficially like his Rachel, and she sounded like her, but the movement, the facial expression, the tone of voice - those things were Gladys, the disillusioned nightclub singer she was playing, comedically overacting for all she was worth. Only the feel of her voice touching him told Finn that under that act his Rachel was still there, and that she was on top of the world.

That and the skintight outfit she wore, of course, because he knew every curve of her body, even with it somewhat reshaped by her costume. But she'd prepared him for that, and she wore less in dance class. So his only emotions watching her were pride at how well she was doing immersing herself into a part so against type, and overwhelming love for her.

It didn't hurt that after her big nightclub number in the first act finished, he heard people talking behind him, wondering who she was, being amazed at how well she sang and clearly having bought into her portrayal of the character. _That's my girl,_ he thought. _And you still have no idea how incredible she is._

After the show he waited around to escort her to the afterparty, the others having gone home. His clothes had been carefully Kurt-approved, a dark grey dress shirt ("charcoal," Kurt had stated) and a green-on-greyish-green striped tie that Kurt had been very insistent about but refused to say why. Which presumably meant that it had something to do with what Rachel was going to wear. Kurt had told him before leaving to not act surprised when he saw Rachel afterwards, whatever that meant, and that it might take a while for her to change.

As he waited for her, Finn's mind went back to the musical idea he'd been exploring earlier that day, and took his small notebook out from his pocket. Alex had given it to him the previous Monday, a small bound book of half blank paper and half music paper, like the composer used himself because it was small enough to carry anywhere. It was way easier to wait when he had something he could do, and he'd been thinking about a short melodic line that maybe he could add some depth to. Just playing, really, but it was practice and he enjoyed doing it. The line had come into his head during a lull at the diner that morning, and in some way he felt like it had been there for a while, waiting to have him listen to it or something, staying inside until it was free to come out. Five notes, no words, maybe it didn't need any right now, a phrase for Rachel to sing, maybe a harmony for himself... he pulled his phone out and started up the piano app, trying out some possibilities. Though it sounded thin that way, it would be so much better in Rachel's rich voice...

He heard Rachel's steps as she came out and looked up to see her approach. _Now there's my girl,_ he thought, taking in her simple green dress (which did match the narrower stripe in his tie), loose sleek hair, and natural face. No idea what Kurt had meant about not acting surprised, though. He bent to kiss her, then slipped his notebook and phone back into his pocket and offered her his arm. "You were incredible, Rach."

"Thank you," she beamed, taking his arm and pulling into his side. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long, I needed to complete the transformation."

_Transformation?_ He looked at her again, taking in the long sleeves and wide high neckline of the minidress, how simple her hair and makeup looked; every inch the Rachel he loved. "You look like _you_," he said. "And by that I mean completely beautiful."

She sighed happily and kissed him again, then they started walking to the door. "That's so sweet, Finn. I wasn't fishing for a compliment though. I want to look like me, very simply me, that's the point. So they know I was acting." She leaned up to his ear. "Though I do very much like how you were looking at me just now."

They went along to the afterparty, held in the same lounge that they'd been in back in December. This time Finn confidently exchanged a few words with Mme. Tibideaux (who seemed to be quite up-to-date on what he was doing - little at NYADA escaped her notice, apparently), and Alex introduced him to a few people he knew, some NYADA instructors and a few Broadway people. Rachel, meanwhile, was making the rounds with some of the other cast members. By the reactions he could see and hear, most were very glad to meet her and some actually had to be told that she had been Gladys, sounding very impressed when they found out. Derek, the male lead, didn't seem to mind having some of his spotlight stolen.

He was standing with a couple of Alex's friends when Rachel and the two leads came up to them.

"Amazing performance, Derek," the woman, a lyricist named Gail Schulwitz, said. "I'd call you a triple threat but you're clearly not merely a threat."

Derek inclined his head and accepted the compliment with a smile. "Thank you. I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the show. You must know Cate here, our Vera, surely? And this is Rachel Berry, our Gladys."

Gail looked surprised at first, probably yet another floored by how different Rachel had looked on stage, and introduced the others, the pianist Dai Zhang and Finn himself, referred to as a drummer. Rachel met his eyes and offered her hand, ignoring the amused look her castmates gave her; they had seen him in passing at the end of rehearsal a couple of times, so they knew he was Rachel's boyfriend.

Finn bent to kiss her hand then met her eyes with a smile. "You were amazing." He gave her hand a slight tug, just enough to let her know that yes, he was fine with being identified as here for her. Though it might be a little funny to let people think in future that they met now.

She beamed. "Thank you. Are you having a good time tonight?" She clasped his left hand in her right and moved to stand with him, using her body language to communicate what hadn't been obvious before, that they were together.

"I'm great."

At this point Alex returned and greeted the performers. After congratulating all of them, he turned to Rachel. "So, Rachel, Finn was telling me you might be able to sing something for me," he said. "I suppose I'd better get that sorted out before everyone else comes calling, you were very impressive tonight."

"I'd love to, Alex," she responded to the composer. "And thank you."

"Great. Did you know she's just finishing her freshman year?" he told the others, turning to them, Rachel blushing a little at their surprise and renewed congratulations, though of course it was what she had been hoping for. Finn squeezed her hand, liking all of what he was hearing, everything feeling so new yet so natural. As the conversation advanced he excused himself briefly to head to the bar, returning soon after with a new ginger ale for himself and a water for Rachel. _'Holding her water',_ he thought amusedly, remembering Kurt's accusation from over a year before. _Nothing 'just' about it, though._

He slipped back into the circle, handed Rachel her water, and did his best to follow the conversation again, currently something the pianist was saying about the musical style of one of the male lead's solos. He probably should have paid more attention to that sort of thing, he supposed, but he'd had rather different priorities. Whatever, this was new to him, he didn't have to establish anything overnight, and anyway he knew the curve on what he was working toward was a long one.

Besides, this was indisputably Rachel's night to shine, and did she ever.

* * *

April gave way into May. Finn applied to music programs in New York, using his existing performance, arranging, and song recordings as a combined portfolio, along with references from Alex and Mr. Schue. Meanwhile, the band's business was heating up, with several weddings and parties booked for summer weekends on the strength of their Valentine's Day show recording. He also continued to work with musical ideas as he had them, feeling them flow from him like they were taking the place of the words he usually had a hard time figuring out, music becoming the language he needed to express himself. As well as the duet themes for Rachel and himself to sing, he also found a few darker lines coming into his mind and eventually realized he was writing some music about his father.

Rachel was also staying in New York for the summer, insisting that she would never consider otherwise, it was where both their lives were. She had landed a role in an off-off-Broadway revue in late June, likely to run for a week if it was lucky, but she was still excited and continuing to audition for other roles. To pay the bills, she was working as a waitress at the Goldman's on Ninth deli, having noticed the "Help Wanted" sign during one of their dates. The Goldman family and their regular clientele took to her quickly, and while she didn't eat much of the food there herself, she made enthusiastic recommendations based on the dishes that she knew Finn and her friends favored.

At the end of May they returned to Lima together for the long-awaited Schuester-Pillsbury wedding. This was the first time Rachel had been back to Lima in almost a year; her fathers were eager to have her stay with them, and they eventually agreed to her condition that Finn was to stay there as well, sleeping in her room with her. Finn didn't think this was going to be comfortable for anyone concerned, but gave in to Rachel's reasoning.

"If I'm going to trust them again I need to know that they're okay with us," Rachel had maintained. "I know it's not going to be easy, and I'm sorry about that, but they need to have a chance to prove themselves."

"Does that mean we..."

"We should try to behave normally. Even if they're down the hall."

"Really?"

"They're going to have to get used to it happening sometime."

So Finn had reluctantly agreed, though of course they would need to spend time with his family as well. And, well, he had become used to ignoring Kurt being in the next room while he and Rachel were together, so he hoped he wouldn't become self-conscious about it even if the Misters Berry were home. He wasn't entirely sure if Rachel was only making a point about the reality of their lives and not punishing her fathers, but he couldn't fault her argument. Receiving two early acceptance letters from the programs he'd applied to went a long way to solidifying his sense of independence and worthiness, and he felt he could face Rachel's fathers as someone who deserved to be with their daughter (if anyone could).

Still, he was relieved when, on arriving in Lima after the long day's drive, they had a quick supper with her dads, mellowed out re-watching _The Princess Bride_, and then went straight to sleep, too tired to want to get up to anything. The morning was a different story. Making love on awaking together was so normal that it didn't occur to Finn who else was likely around until after they rode out their mutual euphoria. In any case, their activities were relatively quiet, most of the time. The loud noises from Rachel's dads' room that they heard that night after the rehearsal dinner were presumably payback, but since all it seemed to do to Rachel was give her a giggle fit, Finn decided it shouldn't bother him either.

* * *

Then Saturday, the wedding day, came. Finn was best man, Rachel among the bridesmaids, and both of them tried their best to ignore the memories of their own almost-wedding, nearly a year ago.

Rachel, waiting with the other bridesmaids and the matron of honor Coach Beiste, thought she was keeping her composure very well until the door to the room off the church's narthex opened and Emma Pillsbury came in, a vision in white satin. The other girls crowded round, oohing and aahing over how lovely she looked, and Rachel suddenly had great difficulty breathing. That had almost been her, a year ago, and even before that the last time that these people had been together for a wedding had been for their first attempt, after Regionals.

_It was too soon,_ she told herself. _It wouldn't have worked out. We're in a far better place now than we would have been if we had gotten married._ But it was so hard, memories flooding past her defenses, and in that moment she hated her fathers again for setting things up to give her such pain. She drew on her reserves of strength and stepped forward to add her compliments to those of the others, but her smile was fake, her voice hollow to her own ears, and she turned away as soon as she could.

Deep under all the memories of thwarted happiness lay a persistent fear, that she wouldn't be able to do it again. That she could never look at her wedding dress again, or put one on; that any future renewed proposal from Finn would give her only trepidation and panic, not joy, wondering when something would happen to make it all go away again. That the ring, or indeed any ring, would have to stay in its box forever because they could never trust that the time was really right, and she would never be able to look at it on her hand again without remembering the moment when she had taken it off.

"Hey there," Emma's soft voice came from behind her, and she felt the guidance counselor's hand briefly touch her shoulder. "How are you, Rachel?"

"I'm fine," Rachel said, turning to face her, doing her best to smile.

"Really?" Emma's look of scepticism and concern showed how poorly Rachel's attempt was working.

"I - I'll manage," Rachel managed to get out, trying to hold her tears back. "I don't want to be a downer at your wedding. It's your day."

"Let me tell you a secret, Rachel," Emma said softly, the others behind her doing their best to ignore them. She took Rachel's hand. "Being a teacher and caring about the kids you've worked with, that isn't something you ever stop doing once you start. Especially as a guidance counselor. So if you need to let it out, you do that, and then we can clean up and get out there, okay?"

Rachel nodded dumbly, then let her tears fall. She cried, feeling Emma's comforting hand on her back.

"I know it's hard for you," Emma continued. "The wedding, even the preparation must stir up such memories in you." She looked sympathetically at Rachel, who looked up at her and nodded, taking a proffered tissue. "And you're wondering how you're ever going to plan yours again, aren't you?"

"Yes," Rachel was able to get out, wiping her eyes. "How -?"

"I've been there," the older woman told her, and of course she had, she'd bought a wedding dress three times. "In my case a big problem before was I had the wrong groom, but we both jumped too soon the previous times, you and I. Even if I'd been with Will, then, we wouldn't have been ready, and we know that now. We can't let the past keep us from our happiness. You and Finn, you'll get there, just as Will and I have."

Rachel listened to her, feeling the sure happiness that Emma radiated, wanting more than anything to know that she could have that someday too. And they had put the past behind them, she and Finn, with neither of them being the same as they had been, being better. Their relationship was so much stronger than it had ever been before, holding on to each other not out of desperation but out of pure love and belonging.

"Third time's the charm. Trust me." Emma smiled. "Assuming of course that Will is waiting out there like he's supposed to be."

Rachel smiled back. "Finn wouldn't let him run away. He's gotten over that tendency himself."

"Good."

A knock came at the door. "You ladies about ready to go?" came Puck's voice. he sounded a little agitated.

"Almost," Emma replied, moving to the door, while Rachel quickly fixed her makeup. "Is there a problem, Noah? Is Will doing all right?"

"Not a problem, Ms. P, and the groom's doing great," came the response. "But the best man is developing a phobia against redheads, your mother won't stop trying to set him up with one of your cousins no matter what he says. So the sooner we start, the better."

"Is Finn okay?" Rachel asked, worried. Finn's memories of their past wedding plans would be just as churned up as hers.

"He's fine, mostly. But I know the dude too well to not be able to tell when his self-control is starting to crack, hell I used to experiment on it. So unless you want him to start on an anti-ginger-supremacist crusade, you should get this show on the road."

"We'll do that," Emma stated hurriedly. "Noah, please tell the planner we're starting, and get my father. We'll be ready as soon as he gets here."

* * *

Finn's self-control had indeed started to crack; only the fact that he was the best man at his mentor's wedding had prevented him from stalking away from Emma's mother and some of her other family members, or saying something rude.

On arrival, Emma's family had been reluctant to be seated by a non-redhead. As best man, Finn was not supposed to be involved with seating the guests, but in the absence of any redheaded ushers or other groomsmen he was pronounced to be the next best thing. Kurt, skin pale but lacking obvious freckles, was flattered at this evidence of his skin-care regimen's success.

"With those freckles it's clear you carry the red gene," Emma's mother had said. And he could tune that stuff out while he seated her and the other members of her family, but once he had returned to his place at the front she beckoned him over again, going on about skin tones and how there wasn't anything wrong with olive skin but...

And then she started pointing out some of Emma's younger cousins, some a bit older than him, some about his age or a little younger, even one girl who was probably only about fourteen. Finn had tuned that out as well at first, but she was very insistent on getting a response, and even the truth had failed to dissuade her.

"I have a girlfriend," Finn said to Emma's mother, not for the first time. "And we're serious, so though I'm sure your nieces are very nice..." he did his best to suppress a groan at her lack of reaction to what he was saying, as she launched into another ramble about how she was so happy there was a young man like him there, not just some of the others 'like that one with the mohawk'. At least it distracted him from the memories that otherwise would have assaulted him. He muttered a hope that they were starting soon, then stepped back to his position near the altar, joined a moment later by Will Schuester.

"You look tense, I thought that was supposed to be me," Will commented.

"Congratulations, you're marrying the sane one of that family," Finn grumbled. "I don't know how much more I can take of Ms. Pillsbury's mother making nasty comments about Puck's skin tone."

"I think Puck can take care of himself. And I can't say I'm not relieved that there's something keeping him away from Emma's cousins. This 'ginger supremacist' angle has at least that going for it, well that and it makes them like me better as a son-in-law than Carl the dentist despite our differences in income."

Finn thought privately that this "something" keeping Puck away was far more likely to be a young green-eyed blonde than an older redhead concerned with interbreeding, but anyway that wasn't the issue. "Ginger supremacist, huh. Out and out racist is more like it." He sighed. "I know Puck can handle himself, but the stuff she's spewing to me about 'not mixing' is against people like my best friend, my roommate, and my girlfriend. Who is definitely the only person I intend to 'breed' with ever, so I really need your soon-to-be mother-in-law to leave me alone."

"I'll see what I can do, though right now I don't have much pull." But then they saw Puck come back down the aisle, giving them a thumbs-up; they were ready to begin. The groomsmen rapidly assembled at the front, the music started, and then girls in green satin started to make their way down the aisle.

Finn's eyes fixed on Rachel as soon as she appeared, walking quietly next to Quinn. He could tell she'd been crying, though she had done her best to cover it up, and probably only he could tell. The rehearsal had been fine, but that hadn't been real; this was.

_I promise this will be us,_ he thought at her, willing her to believe. _We've already gotten through so much, we have each other and we always will._ And she smiled at him as she reached the front, a real smile that he could feel. "I love you," he whispered under his breath, wondering if perhaps she could hear him; she certainly saw him say it, and moment later he saw her reply in kind, her voice brushing over his skin.

"Team," he added, and he saw her nod. Then he tore his attention back to the ceremony for long enough to hand over the ring as needed, returning to lock eyes with Rachel through the rest of it, each of them supporting the other in order to withstand the associations that could not be ignored.

* * *

The ceremony over, Finn waylaid Rachel as soon as the wedding party was clear of the church, pulling her around the corner. He gave her a thorough kiss, using it to reinforce the love they'd sent to each other. There was no time to talk, however, going straight to the hotel where the reception was being held, with photographs taken out in the gardens. As best man, Finn was wanted for most of them, and once the photographs were done the reception started; Finn then had an entirely different set of nerves rise up, faced with giving his speech as soon as the dinner finished. But Rachel sat at his side, her knee lightly touching his, and he could feel her presence calm him. Yeah, he didn't want to screw up the speech, but she was there, making him feel like he could get through anything.

His speech went well enough, talking of strength and love and persistence, of two people who belonged together and gave an example to the rest of them on how to work things out, and things Finn hoped would help thank Mr. Schue for not letting him give up on himself. Rachel squeezed his hand as he finished with a toast, and he felt he'd done what he'd intended to do.

Once the speeches and toasts finished, and the cake was cut and distributed, Rachel excused herself, giving Finn a kiss on the cheek before going to talk to some of the other Glee people. There was a brief break for conversation before the dance started, so Finn talked to Shannon Beiste, catching up on her success with the revitalized football team, doing his best to ignore the steady stream of redhaired girls that once more seemed to be coming his way.

A few of the girls pretended to be interested in the conversation about football, and eventually Coach Beiste shook her head with a smile and excused herself, leaving Finn to deal with the latest girl alone, a cousin of Emma's who seemed about sixteen.

"I don't know that much about football, but I'm sure I would if I had a team like yours to watch," she said, simpering up at him. "Our school's team has never been very good."

"I haven't played in a year and a half, since I was a senior," Finn responded, trying to emphasize his age. "We weren't that good at first either, Coach there really turned everything around when she took over."

"Maybe in the fall," she said. "I love the way you were talking about it, I should give it a chance."

"I'm sure there are good players at your school..." Finn trailed off, trying to figure out a way to extricate himself from this gracefully.

"Maybe. But do you believe in soulmates?" she asked, gazing up at him, making it plain that a graceful exit was not going to work.

Finn decided it was past time to put an end to this, as directly as he could without being out-and-out rude. "Yes," he answered, belatedly realizing that this tactic was a little cruel. But if she thought anything serious was about to happen with some dude she just met at a wedding, she was delusional. He hadn't been showing any interest at all, just trying to be polite.

"You do?"

"Yep. See that dark-haired girl over there?" He pointed out Rachel, letting his eyes linger over her as he did, then smiling as she caught him looking at her and briefly met his gaze. "She's mine, my soulmate. We'll be singing together soon, I hope you enjoy it." Finn excused himself and went over to Rachel, hoping that once they sang together their obvious chemistry would get rid of any potential future matchmaking attempts. At the very least, surely after they heard Rachel they should know they could never compete.

* * *

Music for the reception was provided by members of New Directions, former and current, with the ever-present McKinley High Jazz Band backing them up. The first dance was Finn's special gift to Will and Emma, an arrangement he'd done of the song they had chosen. They'd been kind to him after he told them he'd like to do that, giving him some alternatives, but their first choice was perfect and he'd put a lot of work into an arrangement for himself and Rachel to sing. It worked for them as a couple just as well as it worked for the ones getting married - if anything, Finn felt it worked for himself the best.

Possibly intended to make his task easier was that it was originally a duet, but if anything that had made it harder, since he'd found himself wanting to change a lot of who sang what and even how the parts were split up. He'd second-guessed himself a little, wondering if he was messing with it for the sake of messing with it, or using it to tell his own story too much, but Alex had reassured him that he should trust his musical instincts. And as usual it worked better for him to start and Rachel to come in later, just because of how the balance between their voices worked, no matter how it had been done before. He smiled as the thought generalized: as usual, Rachel's power could be so overwhelming if he didn't get a head start, and his problems with insecurity had heavily been because _she_ was the one who'd had the head start. But he knew better now, and he had his own thing, he didn't compare any more. They were a team.

As for the arrangement, he'd had an easier time with it when he'd gone to the solo recording by one of the co-writers and then made his own decisions about how to turn it into a duet that worked for the two of them, including adding new harmonies.

The intro played, and he started: (*)

_Who knows what tomorrow brings_  
_In a world few hearts survive_

Rachel came in then, her voice clear but still soft, her power contained.  
_All I know is the way I feel_  
_When it's real, I keep it alive_

Finn again:  
_The road is long_

Rachel, looking so deeply into him:  
_There are mountains in our way_

And both of them, in harmony with Rachel as descant, their sound rising in a long crescendo.  
_But we climb a step every day_

For the chorus they traded roles, Rachel leading, Finn supporting, though he felt the truth of all of it, just as he felt Rachel's voice envelop him. They had rehearsed this song a lot, Finn enjoying the opportunity to give Rachel direction as well as everything else, but performing it was still something special.  
_Love lifts us up where we belong_  
_Where the eagles cry on a mountain high_  
_Love lifts us up where we belong_

And they swapped again, Finn leading with Rachel's support, and he felt the change almost as if their voices were brushing past each other. This sort of dance they could do instinctively.  
_Far from the world we know_  
_Up where the clear winds blow_

They continued on, sparing a glance for the couple happily dancing, Finn relieved to see that the rest of the guests were focused on the bride and groom rather than the performers. He wouldn't want to upstage them; he also liked that what he and Rachel were sharing was in some way only for themselves.

* * *

The newest members of New Directions took over for the next number, allowing the rest of the bridal party to dance, Finn doing his best man duty and dancing with Coach Beiste. At least she could defend herself against his clumsiness.

"Still the chick magnet, I see, Hudson," she teased. "Sorry I abandoned you."

"Yeah, well - I've got the only one I want."

"Why Finn, you flatter me," she answered, and they both laughed. The song was short, and once the next one began he walked steadfastly past several redheads and the bride's mother to where Rachel had been dancing with Artie. As she came to his arms, he dimly saw other couples reunite around them, particularly Brittany and Santana.

One dance led to another, and to several more performances, Glee kids past and present mixing together in whatever combination suited them. When a lull came, Finn took advantage of it to talk to some of the Jazz Band, trying to get a stint on the drums, and soon after a longer break was taken so that the bouquet-throwing could be done.

The dance floor filled with a crowd of redhaired cousins and Glee girls, the bride calling out to ask them to get closer together.

"But where's Rachel - I don't see Rachel," she added.

"Back here," one of the other girls called out, but that sounded like Tina.

Finn was puzzled, if Rachel was there she should be able to say so herself, but Ms. Pillsbury - Mrs. Schuester - _Emma_ - only looked sceptical for a moment, then turned her back to the girls and threw the bouquet.

It looked for a moment that Quinn had it, but as the group dispersed it was in the hands of one of the redheads, luckily one too old to have hit on Finn earlier. There was also no sign of Rachel.

Finn wasn't actually surprised, the whole "next one to get married" tradition would have put her off from being involved with the bouquet toss. The other girls must have known. He felt sad, too, at there being that shadow still over them, that the way he'd jumped the gun before would make weddings difficult for both of them. And still someday they should get married, they needed to be able to get past this somehow.

_But of course she wanted to avoid this,_ Finn thought. _I don't blame her._ And as the single men were being called together for the garter toss, Finn decided she'd had the right idea. There was no way he was putting a garter on some other girl's leg anyway, or dancing with anyone else (the woman in question should be grateful for that), so he caught Will's eye, gave him a decisive shake "no" of his head, and went off to the washroom. As he reached the far end of the hall he heard laughter and whistling behind him, apparently Puck had caught it, and he was almost tempted to go back and see how uncomfortable _that_ would be for the mother-of-the-bride who had been so insistent on keeping the women of her family away from Puck. But Finn knew she might target him again if he didn't have Rachel around, and once he'd started thinking of going to the washroom it was hard to stop, so he kept on.

When he came out there was still no sign of Rachel. He embarrassed himself a bit by hanging around the women's washroom and asking the girls that emerged if they'd seen her, but they said no. Then he walked past one of the coat closets, closed up during the reception, and heard something moving inside. Was she in there?

Finn knocked on the closet door, feeling foolish. There did seem to be someone in there, though, and it was the sort of place where Rachel might hide to avoid the pressure that the wedding brought. "Rachel?" he called out.

There was a little whispering and a giggle, and Finn felt really embarrassed now that he knew what he was interrupting. "Uh, nope, dude," the answer came back, and of course the voice was Puck's, everyone's vote for 'most likely to screw in a closet at a wedding reception'. Then more whispering, was that -

"I think she went outside, try the balcony," and yes that was Quinn, giggling self-consciously.

"Uh, thanks, sorry," Finn stumbled, and stepped away in a hurry - but a heartbeat later he returned, fished a condom out of his wallet, and slid it under the door, snickering. Guess he wasn't the only one who'd dealt with those "not good enough" issues. Puck needed to try his pool tycoon schtick out on the East Coast instead, no point in building a life that wasn't where the person he wanted to be with was.

* * *

Finn went out on the balcony and found Rachel standing in the far corner, looking out over the gardens.

"Hey," he said softly, and she turned her head back for a kiss as he came up behind her. "It's still tough, huh?"

She nestled back into him. "Seems so. I thought I'd be prepared, and the duet felt amazing, I just -" she sighed. "I don't know. It's awkward. And I don't know if it's more awkward or less awkward that everyone knows it's awkward."

"Yeah, they're not asking questions like 'how about you two' but we can tell they aren't."

Rachel turned in his arms and looked up at him. "We should just ignore that whole type of question anyway."

"Yeah." He tightened his arms around her waist, looking into her eyes, wishing away the rest of the world and all of the expectations it brought. "I know we weren't ready, but I still think about it sometimes, you know? Seeing you in that dress, feeling that you were about to be mine forever."

She smiled. "I am yours forever," she said softly, and stroked his face. "But yes." She exhaled. "Though we weren't prepared for all that, we still aren't, not for marriage. The roommate experience will make us better able to live together, when it's us."

Finn chuckled. "So you don't normally take almost an hour to get ready for bed any more?"

Rachel giggled a little. "When I come home late from rehearsal and I'm ready to drop? No. And sharing a bathroom with Kurt has been educational. You're lucky the two of you didn't have to share, in your house."

"I'd've thought you agree on the whole moisturizing nighttime ritual thing."

"Doing it, yes. _How_ to do it, no. He still insists I'm doing it wrong and my older self will hate me for it. And neither of us previously had to wait while someone else did it, not regularly. We've both done significant streamlining. You must have noticed, when you've stayed over."

Finn thought about those times, but mostly he had been too into spending the night with Rachel to notice what she'd been doing to her skin (aside from it being soft and kind of glowy). She definitely hadn't taken very long with it, but for all he knew she might have been making exceptions to spend more time with him. But yeah, now that he thought about it, she and Kurt sharing a bathroom regularly must be, um, _interesting_, quite aside from the issues they'd had when Blaine had been visiting. "I have noticed there's lots of space on the counter. Well, almost as much as there could be, it's not that big."

"We have designated corners and a rule of no more than three small bottles each, with one each in the shower. Any offenders can either be thrown out or used by the other person, as they see fit."

Finn chuckled. "I'd hate to have been around when you argued about _that_."

"It's hard when you're used to having your own space, but we've come up with something that works. And it's good for visitors, as you've seen."

He nodded. "Makes sense. And I have to admit that some of my bad habits get ironed out pretty fast when they show up. Mom put up with things that I didn't even know could be issues, but Santana..."

"Threatens to go all Lima Heights on your ass?"

"You know it. Keeping up with my half of the chores is not an option. Though she's been really tolerant of the drumming and band practice, more than the neighbors even."

Rachel sighed and burrowed more deeply into his arms. "It does still hurt sometimes, though, especially at a time like this. Mostly remembered pain, I think. It would have been a trainwreck."

Finn winced. "Please don't say _train_," he said. "I wish I'd never heard of them."

"Then we should change that," Rachel said, sounding decisive. "Take a train."

Finn pulled away so he could look at her. "Really? I'd've thought you would never want to get on another train again."

"I don't, but - I know it's not the train, it's going away from you. Feeling like I had lost you. To see you _on_ the train, welcoming me on board, I could do that quite happily, I think. And we can't just shy away from the things that cause us pain, or we shouldn't, it makes problems worse to avoid them."

Finn thought about what she described for a moment, and he liked it. He was doing his best to face his fears, and if she wanted to face hers too, they could do that together. "We should do that, then," he said. "Let's go back to New York on the train."

Rachel's face lit up, then fell a little. "We drove," she said. "What about your truck?"

"I'm pretty sure I can get Puck to take the truck back to New York for me. I think he's getting the urge to visit Connecticut."

She giggled. "Quinn again, huh? I saw how they were eyeing each other."

"And I heard them in the hall closet."

"I hope they're using protection this time."

"I slid one under the door, just in case."

Rachel started to laugh, and Finn enjoyed the sweet sound for a moment before joining in.

* * *

_* "Up Where We Belong", originally performed by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes, written by Jack Nitzsche, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and Will Jennings._

* * *

_Please review!_


	30. The 4:25 to New York

They stayed an extra two days in Lima at Rachel's instigation, intent on hitting the actual anniversary of her previous train journey. "We'll make good memories to drown out the bad ones," she had suggested, and Finn had agreed. His own memories of his misery at making the reservation for Rachel last year were triggered when he made the new one, though he was elated at selecting "2" as the number of tickets instead of "1", and he did his best to focus on how this time it would be a happy journey, together.

Finn's truck was to have a different driver than previously expected. Puck had his own plans to make to visit New Haven, and his own vehicle, while Blaine was newly accepted to NYADA, had been planning to move to New York sooner rather than later, and needed transportation for his stuff. After making a call to Daryl to arrange for backup to move Finn's drums to the band's next gigs, Finn turned his keys over to Blaine in exchange for a promise to take no more than a week to finish packing and get to New York. Kurt was staying to help out. Blaine thought he could probably handle a year in the dorms, given his previous boarding-school experience; he wanted to move slowly when it came to potentially moving in with Kurt, though he also joked that given the other current living arrangements he should really move in with Brittany, who had started to check out dance companies in New York.

This all led to Rachel's fathers driving Rachel, Finn, and their luggage to the train station in mid-afternoon, exactly one year after the event that had been such a disaster for all four of them. Hiram and LeRoy wished them a safe and happy journey, and promised to visit soon; Rachel gave her dads each a goodbye kiss on the cheek, Finn shook their hands, and then it was time to go aboard.

Finn took the lead, touching Rachel's back and moving past her, handing their luggage to the porter and then getting on the train himself. He turned to face her, holding his hand out to her for her to join him, his face warm and loving.

Rachel took a deep breath and gave him her most shining smile, putting her hand in his. He helped her on board, then kissed her.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much better. I think I will like train travel, this way."

"Just getting started. We have a sleeper room." It hadn't been cheap, but it was worth every penny.

* * *

They had dinner once they reached Kentucky, then hung out in the lounge for a while, relaxing and catching each other up with how various friends were doing. Around them people were talking, laughing and playing cards, and at the far end a fiftyish man with shaggy grey hair and beard was playing a guitar and singing, mostly folk songs. Gradually others around him joined in, but for now both Rachel and Finn were content to listen.

"It's lovely here," Rachel said, looking out at the passing scenery, the rolling wooded hills of West Virginia.

"You didn't look, before?" Finn asked reluctantly, knowing the answer.

"I didn't really see it." But she smiled at him, trying to take his regret away too. "I saved it for now. For us." Finn reached over to squeeze her hand, nodding.

The music continued on, shadows lengthening as the day grew late. At a request for "the train song" the guitarist played a few bars of "She'll be Coming 'Round the Mountain", which was met with muted applause but some "No" responses.

"Oh, not that train song," he said, chuckling. "Well how about this one, even though it's the wrong train." He started playing "The City of New Orleans", which was apparently much more to the group's liking. Finn and Rachel joined in the applause as it finished.

It was getting late now, the sun setting, and the guitarist played some softer music, quieting down.

"Now this place we are going to," he said, and started to sing the traditional "Oh Shenandoah", others gradually joining in. As the first verse finally repeated Rachel started to sing too, but kept her voice soft, singing not for the others but only for Finn.

_Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you_  
_Away you rolling river_

At the next phrase she felt Finn's voice join hers, and their sound gently blended.

_Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you_  
_Away, I'm bound to go_  
_Across the wide Missouri._

The song finished, the guitarist bade everyone goodnight, and soon the lounge was otherwise mostly empty, just a few men remaining to play cards slowly as they drank.

Finn brought out his notebook, turned a few pages, and slid it over to Rachel. "Do you want to try this?" he asked hesitantly, and she looked down to see a line of music, showing some erasure marks but apparently settled for now. No tempo given, but with the current mood of course it would be slow.

She sang it wordlessly, once through carefully, then stronger as she felt the phrases sink into her. Then once more, with Finn joining her to sing the first bar in unison and then add harmony, feeling his way down to join her again on the last note, their voices touching in a caress. They breathed together as it ended, just for a moment before Rachel leaned over to kiss him.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. "Truly." Finn flushed at her compliment and put his notes away.

They returned quietly to their room and prepared for bed, pulling out the wide lower bunk for them to share, and washing and changing quickly. They came together lovingly, the music still resonating in their hearts. The rocking motion of the train added a certain something to their intimacy, both the act itself and their cuddling afterwards, and Rachel completely forgave the 4:25 to New York for the misery she'd previously experienced on it.

* * *

The next morning they made love again, then dozed fitfully together until the noise from adjoining sleepers let them know that the train as a whole was awakening. Rachel got up first and completed her morning ablutions, letting Finn lie in. She dressed casually, borrowing a hoodie of Finn's to wear over her tank top and yoga pants, and went to get them breakfast, insisting to Finn that she would be fine on her own. She wanted a little time to herself and to see the train.

They were close to the kitchen, but Rachel first went to the front of the train and back, walking through the carriages much as she had a year before, but oh what a difference that year had made. She remembered going along to get breakfast, passing through the other cars, being jolted by the train's movement, and look... there was even the same woman at the counter, a large middle-aged black woman who Rachel remembered was called Marcia. Rachel wished her a good morning, by name, and ordered their breakfast, the continental with oatmeal and soy milk for herself, and the omelet, fully loaded, for Finn.

"I remember you," Marcia said once she had forwarded the order. "I definitely remember the soy milk. You were here last year, right?" Rachel nodded, and the woman gave her a big smile. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you seem a whole lot happier."

"I am," Rachel answered, joy bubbling up again. "I am so very much happier." She could hardly stop herself from singing, she felt so happy.

"That hoodie you're wearing and that omelet have something to do with why you're so happy?" Marcia teased her, and Rachel blushed.

"They do," she admitted. "And with why I was so unhappy before."

"Well I'm glad to see that smile on your face, it could light up the whole eastern seaboard. Seems like you've had a good year."

"I think I have," Rachel answered, musing a little. "It usually didn't seem that way when I was in it, but I really have." Her triumphs at NYADA, Finn's success and rising future, the strength of their relationship and love for each other, her friends old and new, even her mended relationship with her fathers, on a more adult and equitable level than before - she knew nothing was ever perfect, and she'd hate to jinx it, but how her life was now looked to be coming pretty close. There was so much that she wished had gone differently, but then maybe they wouldn't be where they were now. And they'd both earned this happiness together, fought for it and knew the other would fight for it too.

When the food came, Marcia put flat covers on the dishes and stacked them on a tray for Rachel. "Are you sure you're going to be okay with that?" she asked, but Rachel reassured her, it wasn't far. "Well make sure you send him back with the dishes once you're done, I want to see this man," was her parting request, and Rachel laughed and agreed.

Carrying a tray stacked with two large plates of food down a moving train might not have been the best idea, Rachel realized as the train lurched, and she had to adjust herself quickly. But between her dance training and her month of waitressing experience she did manage to balance her load while making progress, and she was proud of herself when she reached their sleeper with the meals still intact.

Finn looked up with a smile as she came in with the food. "That smells great," he said from where he sat by the window, bent over his notebook. "Just let me finish this idea, okay?"

"Sure." Rachel unstacked their meals and arranged them on the small table, then shed Finn's hoodie and looked back over at him. And oh, how beautiful Finn was at that moment, sitting in a grey tee and plaid pajama pants, bent over his notebook, his short hair still curling a little at his neck, his expression thoughtful and intent on the notes he was making. She loved him so much like that, just like she loved him on stage or playing with the band; all sides of Finn expressing himself went straight to her heart.

"Just working out a bit of harmony from last night," he said, putting his notes away. "It's like they don't stop, these ideas, things just come into my head now. Or more like I finally know what to do with things that were always there." He came to her for a kiss, then sat down across from her and dug into his breakfast.

They talked as they ate, about nothing in particular, happy just to be there together.

Once they finished breakfast, Finn put the dishes back on the tray without prompting, and he went off to return them. He smiled as he came back into the room. "Marcia said to tell you that I'm fine," he told Rachel, his tone matter-of-fact.

Rachel chuckled. "Oh you are _fine_ all right," she responded, giving the word the inflection that went with its likely meaning. "Are you going to work some more on your music?"

"Not right now," he answered, lounging against the wall. "I got that idea down, I'll look at it again later, get it so we can try it out more." He gave her a shy half-smile. "I love hearing you sing my stuff."

Rachel patted the edge of the bed next to her, and he sat close, his arm going around her. "And I love singing your stuff," she responded. "Even just a phrase, knowing that you wrote it and that it's for me, it's so..."

"_Special_," they both said together as Finn chimed in.

"Completely," Rachel finished, nodding. "I hope we always do that."

"Me too." Finn kissed her, then leaned back and pivoted to lie on the bed, Rachel moving to curl into his side.

They talked further as they lay next to each other, more seriously now, looking at the ceiling and dreaming together about their future. It was the first time they'd done this, trading ideas as equal partners in their dreams, and they both found it immensely satisfying to be jointly imagining their lives. Even though moving in together would be at least a year away, depending on how things went for them, they enjoyed talking about it and having that feeling of being in sync.

"I saw an apartment that made me think of us, back when I was looking for one to share with Kurt," Rachel admitted at one point. "It had this old clawfoot tub."

"What about that made you think of us? We both take showers."

"It was a very long clawfoot tub."

Finn nuzzled her hair. "Big enough for me?"

"Big enough for both of us."

"Hmmm." Finn stroked her side. "That does sound great. And we're going to need a music room, even in a temporary place, somewhere to put the drums and keyboard so we're not falling over them all the time."

"That's like a home office, for us. We'd need a two-bedroom apartment anyway, just for the space so we don't kill each other, and we can use the second room for music. We're both in two-bedrooms now so we should be able to manage it."

"And down the line?"

"In a more permanent home?" She looked at him with a smile. "How big do you want to dream?"

Finn smiled back. "Sky's the limit." And it did feel like that, the future wide open before them, in a good way now.

"Recording studio," Rachel stated. "Even these days there's so much that can be done digitally without much space or equipment, and by the time we're at that stage it will be even better. I'm sure James would help us out with the acoustics, and that way neither of us would be dependent on whoever else we were working with at the time, and we can do our own things together." Finn's future direction was still open, but she knew he was enjoying considering both the playing and the composing and arranging possibilities, maybe even getting into production someday. His college plans would support any of these, and it wasn't like he would ever really have to choose. And she hoped that there would always be music that they would make together.

Finn nodded. "Yes, we'll need a dedicated room for that. And a few more separate rooms, too."

"If nothing else we'll need space for the kids."

"Kids?" Finn raised his eyebrow, giving Rachel a speculative smile.

"Of course," she said. They had mentioned children before, even back in junior year, but this plan was far more real than any of those. "I know you want them, and so do I." She knew having a child was Finn's own "I've been made to want this too soon" thing; he'd been very attached to the sonogram of Quinn's baby, back when he'd thought that little girl was his. It showed a lot of maturity that his more recent reaction to Puck and Quinn had been to laugh and give them a condom, given their history.

"More than one?"

"Well, you know I would have preferred to not be an only child -" Rachel paused as Finn laughed, catching the reference to one of her early songwriting attempts. "I would have been better off for having a sibling, I think. And you and Kurt have become such great brothers. I want to have more of a family than I had, somewhere I can really belong."

"You belong with me, just like I belong with you. But yeah, two or three would be good."

"Sounds right. I hereby apologize in advance for all the complaining I'm going to do about carrying your giant offspring."

Finn laughed again. "Getting that out of the way well ahead of time."

"I wouldn't want to forget. Though I also wouldn't want to wait too long, I... don't want to turn into Shelby," Rachel said hesitantly. Knowing that her birth mother had had difficulty getting pregnant later in life made her reluctant to tie too many of her dreams to having children, however much she wanted them. And she definitely didn't want to wait very long, for fear that it might be too long. Age twenty-five, like she'd thought before, whether she'd become a Broadway star by then or not. As long as that worked for Finn as well.

"Hey," Finn murmured, pulling her closer. "Whatever happens, it's still you and me. Kids or no kids, awards or no awards. Us."

"We could get a couple of goldfish and call them Tony," Rachel suggested, thinking about that old promise to herself.

"Both of them?"

"Sure." Rachel giggled. "It's not like they answer to names anyway. And then I'd have two Tonys, no matter what."

Finn laughed at Rachel's whimsy, then turned to look at the passing scenery. "Where are we by now?"

"In our future?" Rachel wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"No, _now_." Finn gestured at the window, and Rachel sat up to look out too.

"Oh. Well into Virginia, I think. It's lovely. The train should pull into DC in a little while, we should probably get up before that." She gave a contented sigh and lay back down, pulling Finn in to snuggle with her again. "I love trains," she said happily.

Finn kissed her temple. "Me too."

* * *

Ten minutes later they stirred a little.

"Will you marry me?"

"Uh... where's this coming from?"

"Well... we're taking it more slowly, but the future's there, that's what we want, and if anything the bond we already feel is much more profound. So..." Dark brown eyes met light, and she smiled. "Isn't it my turn? I could plan a big proposal, up on the big screen at a sports game or something like that, if you want the drama of it..." Rachel was cut off by a kiss. She kissed him back, then leaned back to look at him sincerely. "Think of it as a question for you to answer, rather than a proposal. Will you?"

"Of course I will," Finn answered, and he kissed her again. "Yes, I will marry you. Someday, when it's right, it will happen." Rachel sighed happily and snuggled back into his side. "Will you marry me?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

"We've already established that." Rachel giggled as Finn tickled her. "Yes." They kissed. "But we're not telling my dads. Or anyone. They freak out too much, in some way they're so conventional. This is just for us, we know what we are and where we're going."

"Fine by me."

It was, after all, a simple literal statement, an affirmation that one day they would. The ring could wait for now.

"Though it is a little emasculating to have _you_ ask _me_," Finn commented.

"Emasculating?" She raised her eyebrows, and her hand trailed slowly down his chest. He groaned at the touch. "I don't think you've been emasculated _at all_," she whispered. "I think you could even prove to me that you're not."

He rolled her over carefully, mindful of the narrowness of the bed, and looked down at her, one of his forearms on either side of her head. "As you wish."

"I knew you liked that movie." She giggled again, he stopped her mouth with a deep kiss, and one thing as usual led to another.

.

END

* * *

_Please review! I hope you've enjoyed this story, and I give much thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed as it unfolded._

_As this tale ends, another begins - I'm collaborating with the amazing OmniHelix on "All Tomorrow's Parties", a followup to his "The Wine Dark Sea", featuring Finn, Rachel, and a combined collection of original characters. Please come check it out!  
_


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